


Happy Days

by SparklingPopsicles



Series: MakoHaru at it again! [4]
Category: Free!
Genre: M/M, Married Sex, Slice of Life, Tiniest of Plot, Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-23
Updated: 2015-01-23
Packaged: 2018-03-08 09:46:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3204707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SparklingPopsicles/pseuds/SparklingPopsicles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A lot can happen in a week. Or maybe Haru and Makoto are just lucky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sunday

**Author's Note:**

> This story is for my dear, talented friend Justine. I brought up a married!headcanon on Twitter about Makoto texting Haru and asking if they have sex too much after hearing his coworkers talk about how frequently they have sex in a week. Justine brilliantly tweeted "this makes me think about a Sun-Sat MH sex story" As soon as I read her comment, something inside of me just exploded, and...well...here we are! lol. I also want to say THANK YOU to my lovely friend/beta, Anne! (@anneioux on Twitter) YOU ARE AMAZING! Simply a genius! 
> 
> ~~ After a long battle with myself and a lot of asking around, I decided to post all seven chapters at once because it really is one cohesive piece. Of course, you don't have to read it all in one sitting, lol.

Haru returns from the bathroom. A tender, honest, and vulnerable smile – one he rarely reveals to the world – splashes across his face.

It’s a soft, peaceful morning on a beautiful Sunday, but that’s not what fills his heart so overwhelmingly with happiness.

His husband is fast asleep in bed, wrapped up in blankets and wearing one of Haru’s blue nightshirts, which hugs his vast torso perfectly. Makoto’s mouth is parted, his face is relaxed, and he’s slightly hunched over on his side, just as he was when Haru eased out of their bedroom.

Haru releases a tiny sigh, his hands itching to draw the treasured sight before him. To this day, everyone from back home stubbornly claims that water is the only thing that can truly seize Haru’s attention, but he would willingly never touch water again if it guaranteed that he could see Makoto this way, everyday, for the rest of his life.

Haru doesn’t waste another second before sliding right back into bed. Another sigh slips from him as the supple mattress and Makoto’s body heat welcome him home.

When Haru lifts the comforter higher so he can scoot further into bed, he’s rewarded with a flash of Makoto’s strong bare legs and a bit of his snug, dark green boxer-briefs. Haru doesn’t fight the faint moan that escapes as he pushes the blanket off of Makoto.

Makoto’s legs merely twitch. He’s still on his side, his back to Haru, but this is more than fine for him. Haru licks his lips then leans over, placing a gentle kiss on Makoto’s smooth hip while he delicately pulls down Makoto’s underwear. His skin is so soft, smelling of citrus body wash and somehow… _chocolate_. This causes Haru to moan again, leaving kiss after kiss on Makoto’s skin, eventually building his way toward Makoto’s ass cheek.

Haru nips at the skin there. Makoto puffs out a vague noise and angles his hip so Haru can take off his underwear completely, leaving goose bumps prickling his skin in its wake. Haru watches Makoto for more movement, and when he doesn’t so much as flinch, Haru continues his tour until he reaches Makoto’s rim.

He lowers more onto his stomach and smears a searing, wet line down Makoto’s ass. Haru moans a third time as his tongue dips and licks over something that is so much softer, hotter, and tighter than the skin on Makoto’s hip.

This time Makoto’s noise is explicit. He lazily lifts a leg, resting the heel of his foot on Haru’s lower back to give him more area of contact. Makoto makes no further noises, however, only meshes his fingers into Haru's hair and continues to lie still on his side.

Makoto’s pressure against Haru’s back and head feels good, encouraging, so he doesn’t hesitate to take the offer and bow into Makoto’s ass, lapping at his hole and slowly, sloppily, eating it. Haru groans and cups Makoto’s cheek, letting his other hand rest on the bed.

Makoto keeps his eyes closed, his sounds faint, and his body limp while he is passionately eaten out. Haru doesn’t mind – loves it this way, actually. On a drowsy morning like this, when they’re both off work and are at peace together, there’s no need to rush or do anything too hard or fast or loud. With this in mind, Haru keeps his tongue relaxed, his lips soft, and his pace slow and worshipful.

“ _Hmm_ , love you, Haruka,” Makoto whispers as Haru sinks his tongue inside of him. He whimpers softly and strengthens his grip in Haru’s hair, but he continues to keep his body relaxed, something that only comes after years of practice.

Haru pulls away for a moment, laying a kiss on Makoto’s inner thigh. He smirks at his husband who’s grinning sleepily at him, and has a lovely shade of pink on his face. “Love you, too,” Haru whispers back, planting another kiss before he resumes his adoration.

He feasts deeper on Makoto, licking and munching and kissing and flicking. Makoto tastes so good – even more delicious than mackerel and pineapple. The gentle moans, gasps, and whimpers that float from his gorgeous throat make Haru so incredibly hard that the friction between the mattress and his erection feels like a handjob.

Haru lifts from Makoto to briefly relieve himself. All he can do is stare at the precum that’s dripping steadily from Makoto’s solid, blushing cock and onto his other leg. Haru shudders at the sight and rises to lick Makoto’s thigh clean. Makoto gasps and jerks, the hand that is still on Haru’s head tugging again.

Haru takes the encouragement, sliding his tongue as deeply into Makoto as possible while closing his fist over his cock. Makoto moans loudly, and Haru hums into his ass even as he kindly starts jerking him.

Makoto’s body flares with heat, and for the first time he really starts to move. His cock reacts even faster – somehow it gets harder in Haru’s grip, and the precum streams down his moving fingers.

Haru isn’t in his mind as he pleases his husband’s body. He’s so comfortable and warm and satisfied that he may easily still be dreaming, but another pull on his hair wakes him up. It’s only when Haru’s eyes are open that he realizes he’s humping the bed, and Makoto is staring hazy-eyed at him.

Makoto lets out a quiet, shaky breath. His eyelashes flutter, and he quickly licks his lips, dropping his hand from Haru’s hair. “Cumming,” he breathes, the word light and simple.

Haru gives Makoto’s cock a long, firm stroke and licks the sensitive skin of his sac, keeping his eyes on him the whole time. Makoto lets out a choked cry, and Haru drags his tongue back to the wet, worked hole.

Makoto is still recovering from the last major jolt when Haru switches his tongue out for a finger. He swiftly sucks Makoto’s thick, warm, and slick cock right into his mouth and down his throat, plunging his pointer finger into Makoto’s hotness and brushing his prostate.

Makoto freezes up for no more than a second, and then softens with a drawn-out whimper, tightening around Haru’s finger and erupting all of his cum into Haru’s mouth.

Haru makes sure that he’s only got about a third of Makoto’s cock in his mouth by the time steamy juice hits the back of his throat. His husband is huge – so are his bursts – and Haru doesn’t want to risk any of it spilling out of his mouth.

Makoto’s cum is sacred, something only Haru gets to unravel from him and taste. He moans longingly at the notion, massaging Makoto’s prostate through his orgasm and using his other hand to milk Makoto completely into his mouth. Having total control of his body is great for swimming, but it helps Haru even more when it comes to pleasing Makoto.

Haru finally stops tasting cum, and Makoto’s cock softens a little in his mouth. He slides out his finger, lifting his mouth.

Makoto lets his leg slip off Haru’s back. He’s breathing hard, slowly blinking. Haru idly drags his tongue around his lips. He rises to his knees and tugs off his underwear.

Makoto’s eyes flick to Haru’s cock. “Not too much lube,” he says, his words drifting like a falling feather. “I’m really relaxed.”

“Okay,” Haru easily answers. He reaches over to the nightstand, grabbing the lube that lies behind the alarm clock – it was only after they got engaged that Makoto _finally_ felt comfortable enough leaving their bottles of lube “out in the open”.

Before Haru prepares himself, he leans up and softly kisses Makoto’s forehead. Makoto responds with a light sigh, kissing his neck. Haru once again sits back on his knees and opens the bottle, slicking himself gently because he’s already so close. As badly as he wants to cum, he knows he’d never forgive himself, even on mornings like this, if he didn’t take the opportunity to be inside of Makoto’s body.

Haru twitches slightly, gasping as he jerks his cock a few times with his eyes closed. He hears Makoto moan lowly and whisper his name, but other than that they don’t really talk or look at each other.

Haru and Makoto have reached a point in their sexual relationship where it’s a choice, not a necessity, to put on a show for each other. They’re just so deeply connected and unconditionally attracted to one another that even doing _nothing_ is sexy.

Haru opens his eyes and stops when his stimulation becomes too overpowering. He scoots forward and takes Makoto’s leg, flipping it over his shoulder and hugging his strong thigh. Makoto turns on his side again, resting his head on his hands.

Haru kisses Makoto’s knee as he aligns himself. Makoto moans, licking his own wrist. “Haruka…”

Haru shudders, biting his lip to keep from cumming right then and there. He starts panting and nods to Makoto’s one-word plea, hugging his thigh even tighter. Haru takes in a breath, and then firmly guides his cock into Makoto’s ass.

Makoto gasps, slobbering all around his wrist. Haru groans and jerks as he glides himself completely into Makoto’s silky, encasing heat. His ass is so tight but still pleasurably relaxed.

They’ve had sex for so many years now that it hardly takes anything to relax Makoto. The amount of lube they use depends entirely on their mood. It’s still always Haru’s first goal to make sure that Makoto is comfortable, but he can’t deny how ridiculously good it feels to naturally open him up, for the friction is so much more intense.

Once Haru is all the way inside, he exhales deeply and takes a moment. It feels unbelievable to be buried inside of Makoto – always does – and right now, just like every time, Haru’s cock welcomes the feeling of fitting into something that was specially made for him.

Haru closes his eyes, dropping his head. He’s the only person who’s ever been in Makoto, and he’s the only one who ever will. Sometimes the realization overwhelms Haru. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve such a precious gift, something that just feels so good and pure, and he’ll never take this feeling for granted.

“Y-you okay?” Haru pants.

Makoto whimpers, nodding and gripping the blanket. “Yes,” he breathes.

Haru leans down and kisses Makoto’s knee again, stroking his thigh with a shaky hand. He needs another moment to collect himself before he does anything, or he’s going to cum on the spot. It doesn’t matter how many times he’s been inside of him, Makoto is _always_ just so tight and hot and perfect around him. Haru can never achieve this sort of pleasure from anything else in his life.

He wants this moment to last forever, he thinks, until he starts deeply thrusting into Makoto — then Haru wants _that_ moment to last forever, the one where he gazes down and sees a helpless look of pleasure take over Makoto’s face as he’s fucked nice and slow.

"You feel so good, Makoto," Haru moans, frowning in pleasurable disbelief as Makoto clenches around him. "I’ve never felt something so good in my life."

Makoto giggles, pushing back a little. “You always say that, Haru.” Haru grins, pushing deeper into him. Makoto arches his back and gasps. “Haru!”

Haru moans, rolling his hips again, opening Makoto up further. Every movement Haru makes brings him that much closer to his bursting point. His cock is so hard, and Makoto’s body suctions it so tightly.

Haru thrusts a little faster, watching Makoto all the while. He’s flushed and biting his bottom lip. The blue shirt just pulls and stretches over his muscles, indistinctly revealing Makoto’s definition – the ripples and lines and valleys of his impeccable frame. He looks simply _spectacular_ , but Haru wants to see more. With Makoto, more is always better.

“H-hey, look at me,” Haru whispers.

Makoto instantly lifts open his eyes; they’re so green, honest, and gorgeous. So full of pleasure. Everything Makoto is feeling right now is because of him. Haru is making him happy, and Makoto is incredibly pretty when he’s happy.

Haru doesn’t feel silly for often calling Makoto pretty, especially in front of other people. Even with his tank-size figure, there are many parts of his body, of his personality, that are just _so_ pretty and soft and kind. It drives Haru completely crazy and always touches him somewhere deep and unknown inside his chest.

“ _Makoto_ ,” Haru moans, letting the tremendous feeling take him over. He slows his thrusts to increase the intensity, continuing to quietly gasp Makoto’s name.

He suddenly groans and begins to spasm, and before Haru can find the power to control himself, he gives a choked-cry, bucking up into Makoto, cumming so hard and in such a drawn out fashion.

“Yes…Haru…” Makoto mumbles, lifting himself off the mattress a little so Haru can more easily empty himself.

Haru holds Makoto’s thigh and kisses it everywhere – about a thousand sensations and feelings dizzying him. Haru smothers his weak whimpers against Makoto’s skin and breathes heavily. It’s all he can will himself to do for the next several moments.

Haru, at last, eases Makoto’s leg from his shoulder and droops on top of him, breathing hard against Makoto’s chest. Their bodies are hot and clammy, causing them to stick together, and that delicious scent of citrus and chocolate is even more apparent.

Haru sighs. Makoto runs his fingers through his hair in response, brushing black strands out of Haru’s eyes. He shivers at the sensual gesture, closing his eyes. Haru listens to the strong rhythm of Makoto’s heart and loves the feeling of being so close to him. He lets his fingers trail down Makoto’s side.

"Haru - that tickles!” Makoto giggles.

Haru grins. "Sorry." He leans up, kissing Makoto’s neck. Makoto hums, tugging him closer by the ear. Haru kisses and lightly nips at Makoto’s skin while they’re still tangled in each other.

Makoto, whether he tops or bottoms, almost always loves to be cuddled after sex. Everything about his sensuality is so damn sweet and has been since forever. Haru, on the other hand, can’t say the same.

Back in Iwatobi, when Haru was still a single teenage boy, still a virgin, he would often lay in bed at night and wonder if he was cut out for true intimacy and steaming closeness – even with someone like Makoto. He never knew if his body would ever honestly feel comfortable and natural with all the emotional, engaging parts to sex.

Haru would assure himself that physical pleasure was something he could probably easily give to Makoto, but he always worried about providing him the sensitive details that go into a sexual experience as well. He knew he could make “good” sex, but what Haru wasn’t so sure of was if he could help create _relationship-style_ sex.

Luckily, all it took was his first mutual jerk with Makoto to make Haru realize that he had nothing to worry about. After what had felt like hours (twelve seconds, to be exact) of frantically tugging at each other’s cocks, knocking their faces together and screaming down each other’s throats when they unexpectedly came, they lay entangled on the floor in Makoto’s bedroom, twisting limbs and rubbing their noses together until the twins’ loud laughter from the next room over startled them.

That day, Haru learned that everything with Makoto, including the delicate side of himself that only exists because of Makoto, just comes naturally, and Haru never has to doubt himself. He can make Makoto feel good in all the ways that he needs to, even if it’s emotional or unfamiliar at first. What’s even better, Haru _wants_ to be emotional with Makoto and give him softness. It feels just as good for him.

Haru pulls away from Makoto’s neck when it seems like minutes have gone by without air. Makoto slowly opens his eyes, warmly smiling at him. Haru smiles as well, not feeling the need to say anything. He will never want to change anything about Makoto or what they have.

“Good morning,” Makoto says.

Haru drags himself off of Makoto and settles beside him. He lies on his back, and Makoto snuggles his huge, strong body against him. Haru rests his head on top of Makoto’s head, throwing the blanket back over them. “Morning,” he mumbles, running his fingers through Makoto’s hair.

Makoto sighs pleasantly as he stretches his legs. “Can we have eggs with breakfast this time?”

Haru nuzzles his nose in Makoto’s scalp. “That sounds good,” he says with a hum. “What about mackerel?”

“Why do you still ask that?” Makoto questions. “You add mackerel to almost everything we eat. I always assume now that it’s included.”

“Just making sure,” Haru eases. “I got really worked up.”

Makoto laughs, but it ends in a choppy moan. “I could tell.” He lifts his leg over Haru’s, rubbing his knee across Haru’s thighs. “I felt it.”

Haru opens his legs and trails his fingers from Makoto’s scalp to his jaw line, which he traces. “Do you want to shower before or after we eat?”

“Before,” Makoto mumbles. “Showering will make me even hungrier.”

Haru nods in agreement, but neither of them really move to get up. He knows that they both want to lie here for a few more minutes and just let themselves settle back into their skin.

Haru is on the brink of slipping back into sleep when Makoto reaches up and kisses his ear. "You’re amazing, Haruka," he whispers, pressing a kiss to his earlobe. Haru doesn’t answer, just holds Makoto closer. He wants to hold Makoto close to him like this forever, to keep feeling this good for as long as possible.

Haru honestly wants to be this happy all the time, and he knows that with Makoto it’s certainly more than possible. 


	2. Monday

Makoto flips through the budget reports at his desk, trying his best to focus. It’s hard to really pay attention to anything right now. Yes, he loves his job as Activities Director for a high-end community gymnasium where he also teaches swimming a few days a week, but Monday is always the worst – _always_ his least productive day.

Today, as with every Monday, Makoto is still lost in the thick, warm fog left over from a full, satisfying Haruka-Sunday. A smile plays at Makoto’s lips, but it’s too much temptation. If he lets himself daydream about his husband, then he’ll _definitely_ be useless all day.

With a heavy sigh, Makoto sits back in his chair and closes his eyes. He rotates his head, cracking his neck and flexing his fingers. _He can do this_. Simply needs to muscle through the workday so he can go home.

Hands suddenly cover his eyes. Makoto jumps, touching his face. "You have one guess.”

The soft, dexterous hands and calm, cool voice makes Makoto’s heart skip a beat. He quickly shakes off the embarrassment of being so out of it that he apparently can’t tell when people walk into his office. Makoto allows a smile to breach his lips. “How did you sneak in here?”

“I didn’t sneak. The door was open. You just didn’t notice me because you were too busy sleeping.”

“I wasn’t asleep,” Makoto says. “Just…not in my head, really.”

“Whatever. Who am I?”

“Um, Kisumi?” Makoto teases. Haru viciously pinches Makoto’s nose, using his other hand to lightly slap his cheek. Makoto laughs harder, seeing Haru’s sharp glare and adorable pout, even though his eyes are covered. “I’m only joking, Haru!”

“ _Annoying_ ,” Haru mutters, pulling his hands away.

Makoto opens his eyes. Haru is standing in front of him, dressed in black sweatpants and his old uni swim team jacket. It fits tighter on his small, firm body these days than Haru cares to admit, but Makoto certainly welcomes his husband gaining a bit more muscle mass.

He lets his head tilt to the side as he takes in the relieving vision. Even though Haru is frowning, he’s the most delicious thing Makoto could possibly see right now, and Haru’s perfection helps heal his sore, tired eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Makoto says, trying to sound as apologetic as possible while continuing to grin at Haru’s little, wonderfully pouty bottom lip – he sort of wants to bite it off.

Haru glares at him for a few more seconds then turns his head, looking down. “I’ll have time to be mad and punish you later.”

“Fair enough,” Makoto says, feeling a gentle rush of excitement and heat. He knows punishments are supposed to be _bad_ things, but that’s never completely the case when Haru is involved. Being punished is something Makoto has grown to crave over the years – especially after they moved in together.

"So? What are you doing here?" Makoto asks. He feels his grin stretch even wider across his mouth as he blushes. Haru hates the mid-afternoon rush, so taking the train in the middle of the day to come see him is rare.

Haru’s face softens, but only a little. He holds up his sports bag. "I wanted to have lunch with you."

Makoto can’t stop the slight, happy giggle that tumbles out of his mouth. They usually just text or talk for a couple of minutes during their lunch breaks, so for Haru to physically make the effort to have lunch with him must mean that he misses Makoto just as much as Makoto misses him.

"I like that idea,” Makoto says, in all honesty.

“I can’t believe you didn’t notice me come in and walk up behind you,” Haru says, shaking his head.

“It’s been one of those days,” Makoto says with a sigh. He takes Haru's hand and raises it to his lips. He kisses each slender, delicate finger. “Takata actually let you leave practice?"

Haru visibly shudders, and his eyes flutter close for a moment. "For a bit. I think he’s only being nice because it’s Monday, and my times have been really slow so far.”

"I’ve been the same way,” Makoto confesses, interlocking their fingers and tugging on him. Haru must not be as mad as he initially let on, for he smirks and allows himself to be pulled close. Makoto rests his head on Haru’s lean stomach and wraps his arms around his waist. Haru sighs, resting his hands in Makoto’s hair, massaging his scalp.

“I miss you today,” Makoto breathes.

“Miss you, too,” Haru whispers, dragging his nails over Makoto’s neck.

Makoto hums, closing his eyes. He takes in Haru’s scent of chlorine and soap, and the warm, pleasurable feeling of his hands. They hold each other and vaguely sway.

Haru had to be at practice ridiculously early today, so Makoto’s only memory of him from this morning is being slightly stirred from his sleep when Haru’s lips kissed his mouth and he whispered, _“Love you, Makoto.”_

Makoto finds himself moaning all of a sudden, twitching and feeling a strong pulse spark his spine. The momentary surge of energy is not unusual, only a bit jarring. There’s just something about Haru's presence that overrides the pleasure center of his brain.

Makoto kisses Haru’s stomach over his shirt, making sure to knock his chin against the string of his sweatpants. "What are you up to?" Haru softly asks, tugging on his hair.

Makoto looks up. Haru’s face is relaxed as if he’s also in a state, and his deep, ocean blue eyes are gazing at him in mild curiosity. He’s known Haru long and well enough to recognize that he already has him.

"Nothing,” Makoto answers. “I just want to give you something." He starts caressing Haru’s lower back.

Haru raises his eyebrows, licking his lips. His face is already turning pink. "Yeah? What would that be?"

Makoto rapidly stands. "Me."

Haru shudders again, his cheeks staining more. “O-okay,” he puffs out. Makoto says nothing more, merely nudges his head toward the door.

Haru gets the message and quickly goes to the door, peeking out before hurriedly shutting it, turning the lock. Makoto’s heartbeat begins to pick up in speed. He shares his office with one other co-worker, and he’s off today. However, there are always people from other departments who he delegates assignments to, and sometimes parents want to talk to him one-on-one about their child in his swim class.

When Haru turns back around, he saunters over to Makoto, making sure to take his time and look as teasing as possible. Makoto feels his ears burning as Haru draws closer. He has a smirk on his face, although he does seem a little anxious. He steps right up to Makoto until their bodies touch.

Makoto’s breath hitches. He shivers, looking into Haru’s eyes – the most entrancing things he has _ever_ seen in his life – and circles his arms around Haru’s waist. Haru puts his forehead against Makoto’s, wrapping his arms loosely around his neck. Haru is quite a few inches shorter than him, so he has to look up and rise on his toes, which is always perfect.

“Hi,” Haru says.

“Hey,” Makoto answers.

They simply hold each other, really saying good morning and feeling awake for the first time all day.

“You smell good,” Haru says, tightening his grip.

Makoto, who’s been in a slight, warm trance, pulls away to look at him. “So does your hair.” Haru rubs his nose against Makoto’s. It’s so cute that Makoto wants to bite him or nestle him in his coat like a secret kitten.

“And thank you for bringing me lunch. I probably would’ve got something from the machine.” Makoto runs his hands up and down Haru’s back.

“I figured. That’s why I brought this, but it’s not a problem,” Haru says, and Makoto can feel him shuddering under his touch. “I’m always happy to feed you.”

Makoto briefly closes his eyes. He feels another pulse surge through him. “Still,” he whispers, “I should repay you somehow.”

Haru swallows hard, exhaling with a shaky breath. “Yes. Maybe.” Makoto chuckles softly, bringing him close again. He bends down and pecks Haru’s neck. "H-how much time do you have?" Haru asks.

“Enough,” Makoto mutters before kissing him. He tightens his grip on Haru’s waist, sighing and slipping his tongue between Haru’s lips, opening his mouth. Haru gently moans, tugging on the strands of hair that tickle the back of Makoto’s neck. It feels so good. Tastes so good.

This is what Makoto has waited for all afternoon – to have his mouth against Haru’s, kissing him and holding him close. Nothing is ever right, comfortable, or real until he gets Haru precisely when he needs him.

Makoto turns them around, guiding Haru back against the desk. Haru bites Makoto’s bottom lip, which he takes as his cue to grab Haru’s ass and lift him onto the desk.

Makoto knows that the last thing he needs to do right now is slobber on his husband when anyone can knock on the door or demand his reports, but he can’t help himself. His body has been aching all day for Haru, and being close to him like this is healing his sore spots.

Haru spreads his legs, leaning back on his palms. Makoto presses his body as close to Haru’s as possible, allowing Haru to wrap his legs around his waist. Makoto leans over so he can place more of his groin against Haru’s. They quickly mash their open mouths together, moaning down each other’s throats as their erections touch.

Makoto jerks as his heart trips over itself, and for a moment he truly believes that they’re going to have sex right here on the desk.

However, Makoto hoists his mouth away, placing a hand on Haru’s heaving chest. “Wait.”

“I know,” Haru breathes, “we can’t do this.”

“No – we can’t,” Makoto pants, kissing him again anyway, harder this time. Haru sighs as Makoto groans. He tangles his finger around the string of Haru’s pants, tugging him closer, feeling his heat and hardness.

Haru rips his tongue out of Makoto’s mouth. “Makoto…” He scoots back, panting hard and looking so needy that Makoto just wants to take Haru home and fuck him into a blissful sleep.

Makoto knows that’s not possible right now, unfortunately, and as much as he doesn’t want to, he shakes his head. It actually hurts to do so. “Haru, we can’t.”

Haru’s eyes widen as if he’s just been told that all the water in the world has evaporated. “Why not?”

Makoto does everything in his power not to smile or laugh. Haru just looks so cute like this, so genuinely frightened and appalled at the idea of not having sex right now. “Because, even if we did have time – which we don’t, this is the one place I don’t keep any lube. You know that.”

Haru frantically brushes Makoto out of the way, reaching for his bag. “I’ve got-”

“– no,” Makoto interrupts. “We used the last of that bottle at the train station, remember?” Haru groans in frustration, giving himself a squeeze and shrugging. “I wouldn’t want you to go back to practice sore anyway,” Makoto adds.

Haru still looks upset. He sighs, gazing off to the side as if trying to formulate a plan. Makoto doesn’t dare interrupt him. Plus, he’s honestly hoping that Haru comes up with something. He doesn’t know how much longer he’ll be able to go pent-up like this.

“Blowjobs take too long…” Haru mumbles, although Makoto is sure he’s mostly just talking to himself. Haru looks to the door then suddenly grins, and his rapid change of expression causes Makoto to tremble.

Haru turns back to him. “Clubroom.”

Makoto merely blinks at him as a part of his brain awakens and starts pounding. “Iwatobi? Like what we used to do after school? When we…”

“Would sneak into the clubroom before the swim team had their practice?” Haru finishes for him. He smiles wide. “Yes.”

This time Makoto does allow himself to laugh. He remembers how antsy his teenage self always became as soon as Haru would text him that one word at the end of the school day.

“We haven’t have sex like that in a while, Haru.”

“I actually just thought about it yesterday,” Haru says, squeezing himself again. “What do you think? This way we can get off at the same time. I brought napkins with lunch, too, so we can clean up quick.”

Makoto gives Haru a once-over. He’s so animated and certain, obviously putting a lot of effort into thinking this up. “Okay.”

Haru gapes at him, evidently expecting more resistance. “Really?”

Makoto shrugs as he takes Haru by the hips, towing him back toward the desk. Makoto sits on it this time so they’re more at eye-level, and he brings Haru close once more. They both moan again. Makoto can feel Haru’s warm thickness pressing against him.

“Yes, really,” Makoto says, nodding. “I want you just as bad right now, and, well, who doesn’t want to be a giant, clumsy teenager again?”

“Don’t be mean,” Haru says with a grin, licking Makoto’s lips. “That teenager was my boyfriend.” Haru tugs on Makoto’s hair to bring their mouths completely together. Makoto dives headfirst into the hot, wet kiss, into Haru’s taste, but he pulls back just as quickly.

Makoto places his hands on Haru’s shoulders, shaking his head. "I can't believe we're doing this.”

"We're not, yet, so get to it," Haru orders. He drags his tongue across Makoto’s mouth again. Makoto groans and cups his ass, pushing against him, giving their cocks some direct stimulation.

Haru is clearly more impatient that Makoto realizes, because he pushes him back a little, forcing his hand between their bodies and gunning for Makoto’s zipper. Haru hastily unzips it with a sharp huff of breath, jabbing his hand into Makoto’s boxers and pulling out his stiff cock.

Makoto chokes on air as his body goes weak, but he’s able to control himself and returns the favor to Haru. He tugs down Haru’s sweatpants and underwear, freeing his warm, hard cock that’s deeply flushed and leaking like a punctured hose.

Makoto gasps – his mouth waters, his hands twitch, and his asshole pulsates. He feels his consciousness begin to crumble and break into pieces the longer he ogles Haru’s beautiful, slightly curved cock. His husband’s piece of magic will never _not_ turn him into a zombie.

“H-how…how long have you been like this for me?” Makoto asks in sincere astonishment.

Haru groans, making sure both their clothes are tugged down to their ankles. “All morning,” he confesses, seeming pained. “It’s why I’ve been so slow in the water.”

Makoto continues to admire his cock for a few more moments then looks up. Haru has a hazy expression as if he’s drunk, and Makoto’s craving for him heightens because he knows that _he’s_ the one driving Haru senseless.

“You need me?” Makoto asks.

Haru slowly nods, peeling off his jacket and letting it drop to the floor. “Yes, I need you. Right now.”

"Touch yourself a bit first," Makoto commands. He sits back on the desk, surveying Haru’s trembling body, his shaky chest.

Haru vaguely whines but obeys, his whole face tensing while his wraps a hand around his cock. He rests his other hand on the desk, gusting out a harsh breath as he loosely strokes himself, smearing precum all over his fingers and his muscle.

Makoto bites down hard on his lip, feeling his own cock throb. He isn't going to make Haru do this for too long, but he does watch him for a while. Makoto thinks about how he used to obsess over this vision as a teenager whenever he masturbated, before he ever so much as even kissed Haru.

Makoto would speculate how Haru gripped himself, the way he probably moved his wrist, what he used for lube, and if he did anything special to stay quiet. Makoto would keep all these ideas in mind as his brain produced a clear picture of Haru jerking off for him, giving Makoto just enough detail to make him cum all over himself, and occasionally multiple times in a row.

It took Makoto an outrageously long time to finally understand that most guys didn't constantly please themselves in such a way, or ask those kinds of questions about their male best friends.

When Makoto takes over, Haru sighs in what has to be relief. His hand instantly drops, and he relaxes in Makoto’s hold. “That’s it. It’s okay,” Makoto soothes. Haru doesn’t answer, only hunches his shoulders, parting his lips and closing his eyes. "Will you cum for me?” Makoto asks.

Haru whimpers faintly, sloppily kissing him. “I-I want to. So bad.”

Makoto braces his free hand against the edge of the desk as he rubs his thumb over the head of Haru’s cock, slicking his finger with gooey, delicious precum. Haru whimpers deeply again, which makes Makoto briefly feel like he’s going to cum. Haru then rests his forehead against Makoto’s, wrapping a firm grip around his cock.

They intensely stare each other down, and like an unconscious decision between them, they wet their lips and begin jerking each other off.

They grind in a rhythm as they stroke together, letting their cocks glide over one another other and humping each other’s balls. They give each other fast, hard kisses, nipping at each other’s lips and sighing into each other’s mouths.

All of this sends constant, powerful pulses directly to Makoto’s cock, but he keeps his grasp steady. His muscles come in handy as he’s able to jerk off Haru at a stern, even pace.

Makoto doesn’t take his eyes off Haru as he softly moans and gasps. He can tell that Haru is trying his hardest to focus on taking care of him, but he keeps stopping to bite his lip, whine, and watch their cocks leak all over one another and their sticky knuckles collide.

Makoto doesn’t mind this at all. It _is_ a beautiful sight to see, and Haru always cums first anyway when they jerk together like this. He can never last long when he’s in Makoto’s grasp. His hands and Haru’s cock are just shaped to go together.

He likes to tease Haru about it, and Haru sometimes gets flustered, but Makoto honestly has just as much of a problem holding back. Haru’s touch at any pace – and in almost every way - feels like pure bliss. Makoto practically tastes the euphoria Haru creates for him whenever he touches his body. Makoto’s far too embarrassed to tell Haru that just his deep kisses alone, guided by his flexible, velvety-soft tongue, sometimes make Makoto want to cum.

"You're so wet," Makoto whispers, trying to regain control. "Or is this from me?"

Haru laps at Makoto’s mouth. "I don't know.”

Makoto looks up from their cocks, somehow forgetting that their faces are so close. Their noses brush together, and it causes both of them to moan.

Makoto tightens his slippery clutch around Haru’s cock, tugging on it harder from the base. It makes Haru suck in air, and his ripe face fades to a darker shade. Makoto pops his hips against Haru’s stroke and holds onto his waist when it looks like Haru may collapse.

"Haru?" Makoto suddenly says.

Haru slowly lifts his eyes from the scene of their frotting. "Makoto?"

Makoto swallows hard, giving Haru another strong tug, which makes him jerk. "I’ve wanted to make you cum all day,” he admits.

Haru actually whines, nodding fast and stroking Makoto harder. "I only got hungry after I thought about your cock.”

"Oh, _fuck_ ," Makoto finds himself gasping. They start kissing again. Makoto thrusts his tongue between Haru’s lips, wanting access. Haru immediately lets him in, granting him entry to his mouth.

Their fingers knot together around their soaked cocks. They kiss, pump, and moan in hushed, desperate breaths. Makoto’s free hand stays glued to Haru’s hip to keep him standing, and Haru braces his palm against Makoto’s chest.

Haru jerks him faster, squeezing roughly and wheezing. “Ma-Makoto...I’m close. I’m gonna – gonna cum.”

Makoto moans longingly, leaning forward and biting Haru’s lower lip. He feels a pressuring heat and energy rush through cock, even making his balls throb. Haru is too damn sexy for him sometimes. “M-me, too. Go ahead and cum for me.”

Haru wilts to Makoto’s shoulder, putting all his weight against him as he wildly jerks Makoto, softly crying out, over and over. Makoto bites back his orgasm, holding his breath as he shifts his hand over Haru so fast that he shakes the desk.

Haru trembles and pants and jerks before tensing up and finally cumming, gasping Makoto’s name against his neck. He continues jerking through his orgasm, creamy liquid filling Makoto’s hand and running over his own cock, creating extra lube.

Makoto groans louder than he should, watching Haru’s fingers get sticky in his own cum as he keeps stroking him, his cock now gushing right onto Makoto’s.

The vision is far too powerful for Makoto to control, and he clamps his mouth on Haru’s shoulder, cumming almost immediately after him. “Haruka!” Makoto squeaks, erupting hard into Haru’s hand.

The pair repeatedly moan each other’s names as they spray all over their hands and cocks and balls. They don’t stop jerking each other until they’re both pumped empty.

Makoto thrusts against Haru, rolling his hips. He places his clean hand on Haru’s arm and closes his eyes. He lets the hot current pass through him until he ultimately relaxes. He finds himself being kissed, and he allows Haru’s mouth to carry him off to wherever.

"I'm really glad I came to see you," Haru mutters against his lips.

Makoto opens his eyes sometime after emerging from his black out. The first thing he sees is Haru’s pretty smile, and he’s licking thick cum off his palm, scrubbing them both down with napkins.

Makoto quietly watches him clean them up, dipping his fingers into the small puddles that Haru hasn’t gotten to yet, sucking away the mess. He feels flushed, a little damp, and his chest is heaving, but Makoto also feels totally awake and able to breathe – able to function. He giggles when Haru finishes and gives the tip of his cock a soft kiss.

Haru pulls up his clothes, appearing happier, and his joy makes Makoto’s heart skip a beat. Haru flicks a glance to the door then back at him. "You actually said yes to this. To having sex right here in your office."

"Don't get too comfortable with it, Haruka," Makoto teases, nudging his head back so Haru will give him more space to dress. He’s tingling all over as he pulls his underwear back over his hips.

Haru shrugs. "Once is all I need."

“I guess you were right about having time for it.”

“We always have time for this,” Haru says. “We only had a few minutes to do it before people showed up for swim practice, remember?”

Makoto throws his head back as he laughs. “I was always so worried the team would change their starting time and walk right in on us hunched over the hall.” He quickly slaps a hand over his face in preparation for Haru’s following comment.

“Good thing it was only ever Rei who caught us,” Haru adds with ease.

Makoto groans, adding his other hand to his face and doing everything he can _not_ to think about that mortifying experience. “Haru _ka_ , how do we know he’s never told anyone?”

Haru sighs, just as he _always_ does whenever Makoto asks him this question. “Because the only person he’d tell is Nagisa, and if he knew, everyone would know.”

Makoto slowly slips his hands from his face. “Promise?”

“Promise,” Haru answers with a laugh.

Makoto opens his mouth to say something else, but the growling of his stomach interrupts him. “We didn’t even eat,” he says with a heavy sigh. Haru laughs again, even more joyfully than the first time, and Makoto considers his hunger worth hearing something so beautiful.

“I’ll leave yours and eat mine when I get back to the pool,” Haru says, standing on his toes as he wraps his arms around Makoto’s neck. Makoto automatically circles his around Haru’s waist and holds him close.

They share one last kiss with heavy sighs. It’s slow, wet, detailed, and sweet – all the things they can enjoy about their kisses now that the smoldering horniness and aching erections are gone. Afterward, they fix their clothes again, using more of Haru’s towelettes to wipe their hands clean. Makoto also provides sticks of lemon gum to mask the slight taste and smell of cum. Both of them acting as if they hadn’t just had frot sex on top of the desk.

While Makoto drops their used napkins into the trashcan, he watches Haru put his jacket back on and pull his bag over his shoulder. Makoto grins, feeling happier than if he were to find a box full of newborn kittens.

Haru is the best person, really ever, and he makes Makoto love life, no matter what. “I really love you, Haru,” Makoto says, the words effortlessly slipping from him.

Haru stops fussing with himself and looks at him. A deep blush spreads across his face. “I love you, too. So much.” He gives Makoto a strong hug, kissing his neck.

Makoto sighs in complete warmth and comfort. He holds Haru back tightly, silently thanking him for giving him this much-needed moment of closeness. Every time Haru makes him cum, Makoto just feels so overwhelmed, so small for a moment. He likes Haru to guide him through it, make him strong again.

Makoto takes in another full whiff of Haru’s hair, clutching him securely and wishing they could just stay like this. “I’ll see you later?”

“Of course.” Haru pulls away, giving Makoto’s ass a nice slap before walking to the door. “See you.” He gives Makoto a sly smirk and waves before leaving.

“See you…” Makoto breathes, trailing off. He stares at the now open door for about another minute then finally flops back into his chair.

Makoto sits back, surveying his desk. It’s angled crooked, and his stack of papers is now a scattered mess.

However, Makoto finds himself smiling as he begins reorganizing.

It’s already another fulfilling, perfect day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know about you - but I ALWAYS consider a good frot a perfect cure for Mondays.... *whistles and walks away*


	3. Tuesday

The warm stroke of fingertips against his bare hip rouses Haru from sleep, but he keeps his toes curled around the diving board of consciousness. He refuses to act any further and awaken himself completely, so he merely hums his recognition and moves his hips back, pressing into the solid comfort of Makoto’s front. He isn’t wearing anything other than one of Makoto’s old t-shirts, so the heat that comes from Makoto’s body feels extra good. Makoto kisses the top of Haru’s head, but Haru doesn’t respond.

It’s late on a Tuesday, which means Makoto had to coach almost right after getting off work. On these nights Haru usually falls asleep before he gets home, because Makoto always stays late after practice to make notes on his students’ performances, as well as complete his work assignments.

Haru moans, burrowing his head further into the pillows as he takes in Makoto’s scent of sweat and chlorine and liquorice – a treat he always gives to students on Tuesdays, while also eating many himself.

Haru’s entire body shudders. Over the years of their life together, he has learned, loved, and accepted all of Makoto’s varying scents. From the time they were kids, to teenagers, to uni students, to working husbands – Makoto’s smell has developed and changed. The only constant throughout it all is that the fragrance always puts Haru at ease, making him feel like nothing in the world can hurt him.

“Need you,” Makoto whispers in Haru’s ear as his hand slides down and underneath his shirt, circling around one of Haru’s nipples. Although something flutters inside Haru’s stomach like butterfly wings, and as hot spike shoots through his cock, he only hums in reply. He pushes his leg up on Makoto’s hip, opening himself up to him.

There’s no point in drawing anything out. Haru knows how pent-up Makoto must be, and there’s no way Haru will tease him when he’s in a work-induced need. Plus, Haru still owes Makoto for letting him interrupt their Sunday sleep-in.

For a while they simply lie quiet and still in the darkness of their bedroom. They don’t need light to touch and enjoy each other; they’re far more familiar with each other’s bodies than their own.

Makoto goes back and forth between Haru’s nipples, rubbing and flicking and lightly pinching them. Haru just lets him do it, purring every so often. They both know how sensitive his nipples are, so it’s not surprising that it only takes a few exchanges before Haru’s cock is hard, throbbing slightly, and dripping precum onto his leg and their bed sheets.

Haru vaguely wiggles against Makoto and is satisfied when he gasps. Haru can easily feel the big, hot muscle underneath Makoto’s underwear. He suddenly takes Haru’s leg, moving it back further over his hip and bending it to spread Haru further apart.

Makoto buries his face in the curve of Haru’s neck and shifts behind him, wrapping his large, warm hand around Haru’s cock.

This time Haru can’t help but make a real noise. He jerks, sucking in air. “Makoto…”

Makoto doesn’t answer him, only pulls his hand away and places it back on Haru’s nipple. He rubs it with a precum-slicked finger, tracing a sticky liquid trail all the way down Haru’s chest and stomach, until he reaches his cock again. Makoto pumps him, slowly and loosely. He obviously knows that Haru won’t last long like this.

It’s mostly quiet as Makoto gently strokes him. The only sounds really come from Haru, who pants and swallows hard. Even though it’s dark, even though he’s facing away from Makoto, he can easily see his face. Haru knows Makoto is staring at his hand that’s jerking his cock. He knows Makoto’s ears are red, and his mouth is parted, probably wet. Having no light doesn’t hinder Haru, only makes his visions stronger.

The slick sound of precum sliding under Makoto’s hand fills the room where light should be. The sticky noise is so loud, so good – practically bouncing off the walls and into Haru’s skin. It makes him harder, and any coldness he might have felt earlier is gone now. In fact, Haru wants to shove the blankets completely off of them, but he doesn’t have enough energy, and there’s no way he’ll ever possibly move away from Makoto’s godly hand.

Haru gasps in horror and sadness when Makoto backs away from him and stops moving his hand. Before Haru can even muster the strength to ask Makoto why he stopped, he whimpers loudly and tightly shuts his eyes as he feels a warm, coated finger glide into his ass.

“ _Mmm_ , Haruka,” Makoto moans in his hair, somehow pushing his other arm out from under Haru and resuming his strokes with that hand.

Haru jerks again, softly crying out. A flood of searing, sharp pleasure soaks through his whole body, and he bites the pillow as his hips move reflexively with Makoto.

Makoto’s fingering and jerking synchronize with Haru’s breathing – each movement soft and even. The darkness that encases them heightens their other senses. Haru knows that Makoto can hear every one of his gasps and moans, and he changes the angle of his finger accordingly.

Haru can also easily feel Makoto’s erection pressing against his ass. He feels the cock vein that dully pulsates, and it somehow vibrates his body. “Makoto,” Haru groans, rocking his hips. He wants to cum so badly that he can practically taste it.

Makoto answers by digging deeper into his ass, thrusting with such a long, strong finger, and pumping his cock with a firmer grip. Makoto gradually shifts both his hands, moving one back and forth, moving the other in and out.

Haru moans in approval as he grinds his hips in time with the thrust of Makoto’s fingers. He reaches between his legs, his fingers brushing the back of Makoto’s hand buried so deep inside him, to squeeze at Makoto’s cock. 

Makoto groans in Haru’s ear, the sound ricocheting off the bed and into Haru’s chest, where it expands and explodes, making his whole body feel like it’s on fire.

Makoto starts moving both hands faster. Haru lets out a high-pitched yelp, dropping his forehead to the pillow. Makoto’s touches are burning Haru alive, melting his bones and making him so achingly hard, but it feels good, too. Feels so fucking good that Haru doesn’t know what to do with himself.

He suddenly shuts his eyes, chomping down on the pillow as Makoto pushes a second finger into him, all the way to the first knuckle. He stretches both fingers, scissoring them and flexing them against Haru’s tight muscles. Haru’s brain starts shutting down as he begins to lose himself. 

“You feel so good, Haruka,” Makoto whispers, kissing his ear and licking the rim. “You have no idea how hungry I’ve been for you.”

Haru can’t respond to him. He can’t convey how amazing Makoto’s hands feel or how on fire he is from hearing his words. He finds himself bucking back against Makoto’s hand, trying to get more than Makoto will give him. He has to know by now just what he does to Haru when his hands are on him, and it makes Haru fist the pillow, clenching around his fingers even tighter. 

Makoto repeatedly kisses Haru’s head, face, and neck as his hand shifts up and down on Haru’s cock, squishing his fingers with more and more precum. The jerking causes Haru to push back, but he gets no relief there either since Makoto’s other fingers curl inside of him and brush gently over his prostate, rubbing against the spot so good that the feeling squeezes Haru’s heart. It’s like he’s trapped in a hot tub of steaming pressure, and the only way out is to give in and let himself drown in the feeling.

All Haru can do is pant wildly and slobber on his pillow as Makoto fingers and jerks him. His orgasm is a whisper away, and he doesn’t want to fight its call anymore. Makoto’s mouth is hot and wet against his face, and his heavy breathing tangles itself securely around Haru.

The darkness has made all of this way too close, _far too hot_ , and he can’t keep himself afloat in the black heat smothering them.

Sparks of fire and energy flare all over Haru’s body, and the dense buildup pushes against him and bursts from his cock. “O-oh, _Makoto_ ,” Haru gasps as he abruptly cums, stuffing his palm into his mouth. He gives a violent shudder and jerks his hips, contracting his ass muscles around Makoto’s fingers and spilling over his hand.

“So good,” Makoto whispers against Haru’s temple, continuing to knock against his prostate while he milks Haru under the blanket.

For a long time it seems Haru’s body stays tense and inflamed. All he hears are his own pathetic hums, Makoto’s slight moans, and the _squish_ of his cum. His ass is throbbing, and his cock feels heavy and damp. He still can’t see a thing, but he feels Makoto’s gaze, tastes the drool that’s sure of have collected under his bottom lip.

Haru opens his eyes to the darkness when the pressure and heat finally settle. Makoto’s fingers are no longer inside of him, but he’s still stroking Haru, his cum no doubt sticking all over the sheets, Makoto’s hand, and his own groin area and legs.

Makoto pulls away when Haru is empty, and by the wet noises he knows Makoto is eating him right off his fingers. Haru trembles as he imagines Makoto’s face – his eyes closed, his cheeks hollow, and his mouth wet and sloppy.

“Makoto,” Haru moans, bucking his ass against Makoto rigid cock.

Haru’s actions cause Makoto to sharply jerk, and his breath snags loudly in his throat. “Haruka,” Makoto growls.

Haru closes his eyes and whimpers. He knows this voice – what it tells about Makoto’s sexual state. He can see his husband so clearly in his mind. Makoto’s chest is rising and falling so slowly; his eyes are heavy-lidded and dark, and his expression is bare, vacant. All Makoto has is pure feeling. All he wants is to relieve his tension.

Haru yelps as he feels himself being flipped over to his stomach. He moans, resting his head on his forearms, settling his weight on his knees and spreading his legs apart, lifting his hips.

“Makoto,” Haru repeats. He hears Makoto make a faint noise and feels him shudder from behind him. Makoto’s growing arousal douses the room in even more heat, and Haru can see on the back of his eyelids how Makoto must be staring at him. How big his eyes must be. How set his jaw is, and how he’s licking his lips over and over because he’s achingly hungry.

Haru pushes back into Makoto, and his cock twitches against his ass. Haru sighs in relief, but he can only relish in the feeling for a moment because Makoto moves away again. Haru takes the short break to rip off his shirt and toss it somewhere in the dark.

It’s quiet, and Haru follows the sound of Makoto pulling off his shirt, moving around near the side of their bed. Usually Makoto might giggle about how he hopes he doesn’t crash into anything in the dark, or even just mumble random facts about his day or night of coaching, but he isn’t about that right now. Makoto’s focus has been reduced to only one thing.

Haru can’t stop his anxious intake of breath when he hears the cap to the lube bottle crack open. That one powerful sound, in this darkness, pushes Haru’s body into another stifling fever.

He jumps and whimpers again as he feels Makoto’s big, moist tongue lick a thick smear over his hole, and Haru moves to hug the pillow to his face. He hums and lets out another yelp when Makoto’s tongue prods inside him. His muscles soften around Makoto’s, but his tongue doesn’t stay inside of him for long.

“Makoto!” Haru wails as he feels his husband’s tongue lick even lower to his balls. Makoto moans deeply as he laps at Haru’s sac, curling his tongue and sucking Haru’s balls into his hot, wet mouth.

Haru howls like something undead, and he cums on their bed sheets without even noticing that he had gotten hard again. He chokes out a cry and trembles as Makoto continues to suck on his sac, drawing out the milk from the source.

“Makoto… _please_ ,” Haru practically sobs. He can’t stand this any longer. Without light, Makoto is conveying all his feelings through his touches, through his silence, and through his heat. It all feels too overwhelming. Haru knows how badly Makoto needs his body right now. How full Makoto’s cock is, and how the pressure is just too heavy, tender, and suffocating.

Makoto finally takes his mouth away. “Need you,” he whispers.

“Have me,” Haru rasps, perking up his ass.

With a small tilt of Makoto’s hips, he pushes into him. Haru presses his face harder into the pillow, crying out into the fabric. His chest constricts, and he tenses as Makoto’s cock digs into him, opening him up bit by bit.

Makoto is huge; there’s absolutely no getting around that fact, no matter how many times Haru takes him. He gasps and wills himself to relax while Makoto thickly moans and continues to shovel deeply into him. Haru’s torso presses flushed against the bed. He’s so full, but it feels incredibly good – the best kind of filling he could ever possibly experience – like this is what it truly means to have someone inside of him.

When Makoto is fully inside, balls deep, he lets out a choked cry and hunches over, extending his arms and supporting himself on his hands. They stay still for a while, wheezing together. Haru twitches and gasps as Makoto’s solid cock throbs inside him, igniting the nerves of his already stimulated ass.

Their sounds form into clouds that circle closely around them. Haru feels Makoto all over and inside him. He actually believes it starts raining their heat and arousal as drops of sweat drip from Makoto’s chest and onto his back. Haru moans and shivers as the hot liquid erodes his skin, breaking him down to something simpler, raw.

Haru shouts when Makoto gives him a rough thrust. He pushes his forehead into the pillow and grits his teeth, trying to stay conscious as his heart jolts and his ass clenches. Makoto growls and moves his hips back, his cock sliding out of Haru with agonizing friction, before slamming into him again.

Makoto fucks Haru at a hard, steady pace. His hips slam and pull away from Haru’s ass over and over again. Makoto grunts, growls, and groans with each stroke of his cock – with every clench of Haru’s ass. His powerful noises fall onto Haru’s body, and it makes him feel like he’s being fucked twice over.

Haru can only wheeze, whimper, and moan as his husband uses his body so deliciously. All he needs to do is take Makoto’s tension for him, feed him his need, and make him feel good. Haru just has to squeeze him, take Makoto out of his mind, and offer him a pleasurable place for escape.

Haru feels himself shaking as he attempts to keep his hips up. Every pound into him rattles right through his bones. Makoto’s cock feels so good. Makoto fucking him, hard and rough, feels so _amazingly_ good. Although Haru topped Makoto first all those years ago, there was never any doubt in Haru’s mind that he wanted Makoto inside of him.

There’s just so much that’s given, taken, and lost when receiving. Haru only trusts Makoto with it all and always has – even before they started having sex, and even before they started dating.

Haru braces himself against the bed, whimpering, as Makoto quickens their pace. Even though he’s going faster, Makoto is still calculated in his movements, sharp and exact, and it’s enough to make Haru writhe underneath him. His breath comes out as high-pitched gasps every time he’s completely stuffed with cock, and Haru feels wetness in the corners of his eyes due to the extreme feeling. There’s just no helping it; the sensation is beyond anything Haru can control.

With quicker thrusts, Makoto starts hitting his prostate and keeps hammering against it. Haru’s cock is already – _magically_ – so fucking hard again, so tender and aching and throbbing from how unexpectedly good their sex is tonight.

“Feels so good,” Makoto moans, out of nowhere. He gives Haru a particularly brutal thrust, making him shout again. “ _Mmm_. You’re so beautiful, Haruka.”

Haru softly cries out, falling into the feeling of Makoto’s words and dissolving underneath him. He melts into nothing but a tight space for Makoto to fuck – to dig into and claim as his pleasure hole. Haru’s eyes roll into the back of his head as he’s fucked so hard that he sobs, and the slam of Makoto’s hips against his ass cheeks somehow feels like a punch to his prostate.

Haru closes his eyes and surrenders himself to the euphoric torture that only multi orgasms can create. He cums for the third time, shuddering and whining, and feels obliterated beyond repair.

Haru’s still tenderly floating through space and time as he feels Makoto fuck him harder and faster, until he too collapses into the dark heat and cums inside of Haru, filling up his already stuffed body. Makoto’s cum brings Haru back to life, and he feels as though he may pleasurably burst.

Makoto falls on top of him, muffling his sounds against Haru’s neck. His cock is still throbbing, and he’s so sweaty and heavy. Haru moans in pleasure, slipping out a gasp of Makoto’s name.

They once again stay motionless, still trying to grasp pieces of themselves and fit them back in place.

Makoto eventually pulls out of Haru and crumples beside him on the pillow. Haru gently turns to his side, adjusting to the sharp pressure that pulses in his ass and cock, and the warm, tickling sensation of cum trickling out and down his body. He’s stinging and stuffed, and it feels amazing.

Haru sticks out his face, smiling, because even in the dark he knows that Makoto is smiling, too. Haru sighs as Makoto’s mouth, of course, finds his. They softly kiss once, twice, and then lay back, facing each other.

“Are you okay?” Makoto asks, and his voice is shaky but regular again.

Haru nods, moaning. “I’m all right. That was really, really good.” He knows Makoto has his hand out, so he extends his. Makoto interlaces their fingers. “You made me cum…a lot. So, sheets are ruined.”

Makoto laughs, and it’s beautiful to hear. “That’s okay. It’s worth it if I can get you there – _three_? Was it three times?”

“Yes, it was three times,” Haru mumbles, quickly pecking Makoto’s lips again. “I’ll get you back, don’t worry.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” Makoto says. “How about I change the bedding tomorrow? I’ll just get another blanket, and we can sleep on top of this one tonight.”

“Fine.” Haru uses his other hand to reach up and caress Makoto’s face. It’s warm, so Haru can easily picture the pretty blush that must be there. “How was your day?”

“Long and busy,” Makoto answers, kissing Haru’s hand as it glides over his mouth. “I was kind of hoping you’d show up with lunch.”

“I wish I could’ve,” Haru says with a sigh. “I had to talk to some sponsors again. It went well, I think.”

“I’m glad,” Makoto says. “I could barely keep up today, and the kids had me on my toes all night. I don’t know how I do this all the time.”

“By being you,” Haru answers, tracing his mouth. “You know that.”

“Whatever you say, Haruka.” Makoto laughs again – it’s a gentle, honest giggle that makes Haru fall in love with him all over again. “Haru?”

“Hm?”

“Are you smiling?”

Haru tightens his lips. “Not anymore.”

“Oh, come on. You’re so pretty when you smile.”

“Stop being annoying.”

“Impossible – annoying is why you love me.” Makoto leans over and kisses him before Haru can respond. Haru is so utterly surprised by it in the dark that he gasps against Makoto’s lips.

When Makoto pulls away, Haru keeps his eyes closed, letting the dizzy feeling overtake him for a few seconds. “It’s always intense like this,” Makoto whispers, no doubt staring right at him.

Haru can feel his gaze, and it somehow makes him more lightheaded. “Yeah…it is.” He suddenly clears his throat, shaking his head and licking his lips. “I made dinner for you.”

“I saw. I’m gonna eat then take a shower. I smell.”

“You do,” Haru mumbles against the pillow with a nod.

“Haru _ka_!”

“Hm?” Haru hums, raising an eyebrow. “Wait – no. That’s not what I mean. I just… _never mind_. Get out.” Makoto laughs and kisses Haru’s forehead. He climbs out of bed and opens the door.

“Hold on. How did you work so well in the dark?” Haru finds himself asking, sitting up. From the light in the hallway, Haru can finally see a bit of Makoto. He’s wearing nothing but his underwear, and he looks happier and more relaxed than Haru sensed from him when he first crept into bed.

Makoto tilts his head slightly, rubbing the side of his face. “By the time I woke you up I had most of my clothes off.”

“Ah, so, you just assumed I’d put out?"

“Oh, I knew you’d put out, Haruka. You always do for me.”

Haru chucks a pillow at him, evidently missing as he hears the soft thud hit a wall.

“Stick to swimming,” Makoto teases.

“Ugh. Just come get me when you’re finished eating,” Haru says with a pout. “We’ll clean up together.”

“I definitely will.”

Haru lies back down when Makoto closes the door behind him. He sighs in both relaxation and irritation, but easily lets himself slip into a smile as he drifts back into the fog of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my... *fans self*  
> ALSO ~~"put out" = basically means give up body for sex. I hope the phrase isn't too obscure lol


	4. Wednesday

Makoto savors every breath, every second of contact, and every kiss as they make their way to the bathroom. They seem to be kissing and inching down the longest hallway in the world. Makoto has to beat down the desire to simply push Haru against the nearest wall or lay him on the floor and take him there.

Haru lifts one of his hands from Makoto’s neck, using it instead to pull on the hem of his shirt and guide him into the bathroom. As soon as they cross the threshold, Makoto whips Haru around, pressing him against the wall.  

“Makoto…”

With the one breathof his name, Makoto is pushed headfirst into an ocean of jittering craze. All he knows are Haru’s delicate lips against his, and the breathless moans that are being spurred on by his advances.

“You made me crazy,” Makoto says, in a desperate gust of air.

Haru laughs faintly, and a soft grin spreads across his mouth as Makoto continues kissing him. “What else was I supposed to do?” Haru asks.

Makoto squeezes Haru’s hips, licking under his bottom lip. “Not sext me. Not send me pictures of you in this damn apron all day.”

Haru laughs a littler harder, pushing Makoto away. He gazes up at him, showing his pretty, pink face. “I thought you’d like it. You usually do.”

Makoto just blinks at Haru, rubbing a thumb over his mouth. He can’t deny his husband’s claim. It’s been a game since uni that when one of them is busy for the day and the other isn’t, the person who’s free harasses the other with lewds, photos, and over-the-top messages.

Makoto presses his finger harder to Haru’s lips. Haru slowly bats his eyelashes, sucking it into his mouth. He sighs, and Makoto bites his lip as he thrusts his thumb in and out of Haru’s warm mouth, letting it be flicked by his velvety soft tongue.

“ _Haruka_ ,” Makoto groans. “Aren’t you tired of me? I was just in you last night.”

Haru’s mouth tightens around his thumb, and he whimpers, losing balance for a moment. Haru shakes his head, staring right at Makoto as he slowly pulls his thumb out of his mouth. He suctions the very tip as it slides out, creating a _popping_ sound. Makoto swallows hard, feeling his knees weakening as well.

“I could never get tired of you,” Haru says in an airy voice. “I wish Makoto was inside me all the time.”

Makoto exhales harshly before bashing his mouth against Haru’s again. Haru kisses him back, slipping his tongue between his lips. They moan together, and Makoto moves his hands up Haru’s chest, weaving under the material of the apron – his only article of clothing – and gently squeezes the skin there, rubbing his fingertips over Haru’s nipples.

Haru moans, encouraging him to continue, so Makoto bends down and sucks his neck. He just can’t get enough of him. All day Haru has done nothing but tease and drive him insane, making Makoto so incredibly hungry for him – _again_. Last night had been more about releasing an unbearable strain, but this sensation is definitely driven by nervy, sexual impatience.

Haru repeatedly runs his hands through Makoto’s hair. He tangles his fingers in the strands, tugging every time Makoto nips him. When Makoto increases the pressure of his bite, Haru pulls on his hair that much harder. He can obviously only stand this for long, for Haru pushes himself up and turns them around, pinning Makoto against the wall this time.

“Haruka!” Makoto gasps, his cock jerking in pleasure.

Haru lets out a heavy breath and guns for Makoto’s pants. He quickly releases the belt, unfastens the button, and pulls down the zipper. Haru then gives Makoto a fierce look, causing Makoto to gulp, before dropping to his knees.

Makoto lets out a choked cry, gripping Haru’s shoulder as his unbelievably moist mouth encases him. He closes his eyes, moaning longingly while Haru licks and sucks his cock. The hot, wet pleasure sends sparks straight through Makoto’s body. His eyes roll into the back of his head, and he sort of wants to just sink into the wall.

“ _Hmph_. _Mmm_ ,” Haru hums as best he can around Makoto’s cock. He’s purposely loud and vulgar, because he knows just how crazy Makoto can get when he’s sucked off. Even after so many blowjobs from him, it’s still outrageously sexy to Makoto that Haru eagerly wants something, well, _big_ in his prim, delicate mouth. What’s never a surprise, however, is just how good Haru is still able to please him, despite the vast difference in sizes.

“Haruka,” Makoto groans. His legs are badly trembling, and he’s moments away from toppling over. He has to use every bit of his willpower not to thrust too hard in Haru’s mouth and possibly end this now.

As if Haru can read his mind, he suddenly stops and stands back up. He licks his lips, gazing innocently at him. “The bath is ready,” Haru says, quietly. He takes a few steps back so Makoto can get a good look at him.

Haru’s small, firm body is flushed underneath the blue apron that’s tied almost sinfully around him, hugging his curves like a dress. His erection juts against the apron, raising it to a tent.

Makoto sighs, tilting his head and stuffing a knuckle into his mouth, licking and biting it. Half of him wants to lie down and simply stare at Haru; the other portion just wants to grab himself and start jerking off. Of course, Makoto will actually do neither. He steps out of clothes.

“O-okay,” Makoto chokes out, and he’s not entirely sure where he is right now. “Do you need me to-”

“ – I’m already ready,” Haru quickly answers. “I don’t want the water to get too cold.”

Makoto shudders as he pulls his shirt off over his head. “You warmed up for me?”

Haru once again doesn’t answer, only nods and unties the apron. He gracefully takes it off, letting it drop to the floor. Makoto finds himself trembling again, and his cock jerks just the same.

Haruka was always meant to be naked, or least meant to wear as little clothing as possible. All of his curves, dips, and lines of muscle are so elegantly placed that he looks like art – a special, one-of-a-kind piece of art that somehow Makoto was chosen to take home with him and keep forever.

Makoto whines and bangs his head on the wall, feeling overwhelmed. “I can’t believe you’re real sometimes, Haruka.”

Haru’s eyes widen, and he turns his head slightly. However, it doesn’t keep Makoto from noticing his blush. “Well. I _am_ real,” Haru mutters, clearly embarrassed.

Makoto doesn’t know if he’s more stimulated by Haru’s body, or the fact that it’s his words – not being naked in front of him – that make Haru coy. It honestly doesn’t matter either way. Makoto rushes up to Haru, kissing him and seizing him by the hips. Their exposed erections touch, and they both groan.

Makoto pulls away. He lets out a shaky breath and looks down at the bathtub. It’s not even halfway full, probably reaching their sides when they get in, but it doesn’t need to be completely filled for this. Haru just needs to feel a bit of the water.

Makoto eases into the tub, exhaling as the warm, soothing water greets him. He sits with his legs plastered to each side of the tub bowl, and Haru slips in next, straddling Makoto’s lap. Though they are both snug, they fit comfortably.

When it came to decisions regarding their house, the only request Haru made was that they have a tub that could easily fit them both. It was a hassle, considering Makoto’s size, but worth it. Their bathtub is probably the most luxurious item in the entire house.

“This is nice,” Haru breathes, leaning forward and kissing him. They intertwine themselves and dip their hands into the water, spreading it over each other’s arms, torsos, and hair.

They occasionally stop kissing to slightly laugh or rub their noses together while water drips from their hair and faces. They don’t really move their bottom halves just yet. Both their erections stand tall in the water, and every so often they brush against each other, causing them to gasp and moan.

Even with the buildup and impatience, they take their time during this – this moment in the water. It’s just about touching each other, worshipping, and feeling how the warm water changes the contact and sensation of their bodies.

Haru glides his hands over Makoto’s head until his hair is slicked back off his face. Makoto cups water into his hands and pours it on Haru’s flat, defined chest. Every drop of water seems to fuse to Haru’s skin like it’s home, and Makoto swears each individual bead of liquid sparkles as it trails down Haru’s body.

“Ride me, Haruka,” Makoto whispers, shaking his head. He’s at a loss for words – at a loss for himself.

Haru moans and takes Makoto’s hand, lowering it into the bath. He then raises it to his face, and Makoto whines again as the water splashes on Haru’s cheek and down his neck. Haru’s skin feels silkier, warmer – more alive somehow.

Everything about Haru right now is just _more_. Makotocan make out every long, thick black eyelash that surrounds Haru’s gorgeous, ocean blue eyes. His dark, sleek hair is perfectly hanging around his face, water just rolling off the strands like it was made to do so. Haru is so beautiful, he _always_ is, but at this moment he’s even _more_ than that.

“You ready?” Haru asks, wrapping his hand around Makoto’s cock and stroking it. Makoto lets out a choked cry and jerks, hastily putting a hand over Haru’s to stop him. “Ready” doesn’t begin to describe what he feels. How _exactly_ he feels being in the bath like this with Haru.

Makoto nods frantically. “Y-yes. I’m definitely ready.”

Haru doesn’t waste another second before rising. Water cascades from his body and into the bathtub, and the mere sound of the splashing makes Makoto’s heart beat out of his chest. He suddenly wants to taste the water, wants to know what it smells like coming off Haru’s body.

Makoto braces his arms on the sides of the tub as Haru clutches his shoulders. He slowly, smoothly sinks down on his cock. Makoto bites his lip and throws his head back. The water suddenly feels so much warmer – boiling actually.

Makoto is always so amazed by how tight Haru is, even after relaxing himself, even after years of being inside of him. The suction of Haru’s ass is so taut and scorching that sometimes Makoto wonders how he ever fits. If every ass on Earth is honestly like this, or if Haru was simply born with extra knots, just for his cock to loosen.

“Ma- _Makoto_ ,” Haru chokes when he’s finally all the way down, completely sitting in Makoto’s lap. He shuts his eyes tightly and vibrates, squeaking and biting his lip. Makoto just stares at him, twitching and gulping. He lets his mouth hang open and becomes dazed, watching and feeling Haru squirm on him.

Makoto does his best to pay attention to every detail of Haru’s attitude, looking for any sign of discomfort. No matter how amazing he feels, Makoto has to be sure that Haru is all right. When he first started topping, it took multiple sessions before he ever felt comfortable moving inside of Haru in any way other than incredibly slow and gentle. To this day he sometimes still gets anxious.

Haru’s space is just so taut, so small and pink and precious, but somehow he always welcomes Makoto in his entirety, like he was custom-made to fit him. Makoto worships such a fit – Haru’s ass is baptizing heat.

“A-are you okay?” Makoto asks.

Haru opens his eyes, nodding as if mesmerized. Makoto doesn’t blame him; he feels it, too. Feels every inch of his cock being hugged and shocked by Haru’s piping muscle. “ _Yes_ ,” Haru whispers, and his voice is light and high-pitched.

Haru leans forward, placing his forehead to Makoto’s. Makoto pecks his lips, skimming his fingers down Haru’s back. His skin feels so much hotter and even a little sweaty, but it could just as easily be his own hands.

They just kiss for a while. Haru wiggles his hips, keeping his arms pressed to Makoto's chest and hands clasped on his shoulders. Makoto gasps and moans and twitches with every jerk Haru makes on him. He can practically feel Haru’s heartbeat, and it pulses his cock, making it throb.

Makoto sighs heavily and sits back against the bathtub, trying not to cum as Haru faintly rides him, visibly taken by his cock and how deeply it opens him up. How good it truly makes him feel. Makoto continues to smear water on Haru, more to help settle him than anything else. He can’t be any deeper, any more inside of Haru than he is right now.

Makoto pops his hips one time, and Haru shouts, digging more into his shoulders. A spike of pleasure shocks Makoto’s spine, making him moan. He was always meant to do this – to be the one who opens up Haruka. No one else could ever possibly know how to take care of him, how to make sure he doesn’t hurt, or how to find the tender center buried deep within him.

"F-feel…feels so good," Haru drones.

Makoto is completely fogged by the feeling of Haru all around him, but he does manage to find his words. "So good," he repeats. He could stay here all night, inside Haru, the humidity of the bath lingering over them.

Haru gives him a weak peck. “Harder?”

It’s a bit funny to Makoto that Haru is the one asking this, but he doesn’t mind, only nods. “Yes. Harder, please?”

Haru kisses him deeply, and Makoto sucks on his tongue, clutching Haru’s waist. When Haru begins bouncing up and down on his cock, shifting in short, deep bursts, Makoto loses touch with reality again. All he knows and has is Haru. They are the only two people who exist in the world.

Makoto continuously huffs out air as Haru fucks himself on his cock, his ass pounding down on Makoto’s groin. Haru moves cautiously but with force. His body is flushed and shaky, and there’s a raw, bewildered bliss in his expression, as if Makoto’s body is giving Haru something that he can’t feel anywhere else. He looks absolutely beautiful like this.

Makoto lifts his hips whenever Haru drops down on him. They kiss weakly and pant against each other’s mouth. Makoto can feel Haru’s hard, warm cock against his stomach, and it makes Makoto hug him tighter.

“ _Haru_ ,” Makoto moans, but he honestly has nothing to say. He just feels a need to speak – to utter Haru’s name.

Haru responds by slamming down harder, and Makoto pushes up to meet his heat. The harder Haru bounces, the faster Makoto pushes. The louder Makoto grunts, the deeper Haru moans. Everything about their movements is in sync with each other, and it feels so good, like they’re swimming in their sex.

Makoto feels as though he’s in a sauna. Even though the water is a bit colder now, every inch of him touching Haru is melting away. He clutches the sides of the bathtub again, thrusting up into Haru. Haru shouts, dropping his mouth next to Makoto’s ear, moaning and breathing into it, something that always drives Makoto crazy.

“Makoto,” Haru rasps, licking his earlobe. His breath is shallow and amazingly warm. “You’re so big. I love fucking you like this.”

Makoto groans, pushing his face more against Haru’s mouth. He grasps Haru’s nipples, pinching them. When Haru whimpers, Makoto claims his bottom lip and starts sucking it. Haru squeezes around him and shudders violently. Makoto has to bite Haru’s lip to keep from exploding.

“Ride as deep as you want,” Makoto says in a gasp. “Fill your tight, pretty little ass with me.”

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Haru whines, letting his head fall to Makoto’s shoulder. Makoto swiftly dunks his hands into the bath, spreading the water over Haru’s back. Haru moans and shivers as the water trickles over his skin, and it seems to give him enough energy to really start moving again.

Makoto keeps his eyes closed as Haru bounces on him. He doesn’t know what else to do with himself. This just feels so good, so beautiful. It’s always extreme when Haru fucks him like this, taking complete control of his cock, riding him with all his strength, topping _so_ expertly from the bottom.

Makoto isn’t even conscious. He’s just a body that Haru is using with precision in order to give them both the utmost pleasure; a simple tool that was designed to be handled by Nanase Haruka, and Makoto is honored to be rewarded with such a job.

“L-look at me,” Haru wheezes.

Makoto slowly opens his eyes – it never matters what he’s doing or what he’s feeling at the time, whenever Haru wants his gaze, Makoto gives it to him.

After Makoto’s vision comes back to him, he sees Haru’s gorgeous, glowing face. In fact, his entire body is glowing – sparkling in the water. Makoto just stares at him. He wants to bow before Haru and thank him for being alive, for being his best friend – his husband.

“M-more, please?” Makoto whispers, his voice so broken that he can hardly speak. “Even more. E-even harder.”

Haru shuts his eyes and whimpers. He places a wet hand to Makoto’s cheek, softly kissing him. “Hold on to me, okay?” Makoto answers with a pop of his hips, firming his grip on Haru’s waist.

Haru starts grinding on him, thrusting more instead of bouncing. Makoto bites his lip, feeling overwhelming pressure in his lower half, and a strong pulse in his cock. He wants to cum so badly, just let himself explode into nothing. Haru keeps gasping, moaning, and whining as he moves, his hands now simply molded to Makoto’s shoulders. The grip is so tense and hot, so Makoto slithers his hands to Haru’s ass, tracing patterns all over his cheeks and rim.

“ _Makoto_ ,” Haru moans, pressing his cheek to the side of Makoto’s face and springing on him faster. His voice is so deep and unstable that Makoto knows he’s close, too.

Makoto kisses Haru again, and they keep kissing as they met each other’s pushes and slams. Makoto can hardly breathe; there’s barely any air in his lungs. He whimpers over and over into Haru’s mouth as the pressure rises and erupts.

Makoto breaks away from the kiss, crying out loudly. Haru keeps bouncing on him until he shouts his name, thrusting up hard against Makoto’s stomach. They cling to each other, gasping for air and rocking their bodies, as they cum almost at the exact same time. Haru pumping himself lovingly onto Makoto's chest, and Makoto jerking up deeply into Haru, filling him up completely.

“I love you,” Makoto sobs, his body convulsing as his orgasm devastates him. “Haru. _Haru_.” He whines and holds on to Haru tighter.

Haru doesn’t let him go. He holds Makoto securely, moving his hips up every so often to completely empty them both. “It’s…it’s all right,” he rasps. “I’m right here.”

“Haru…” Makoto tries to calm down, but he can’t stop or slow down what’s happening to him. He continues to cry, gasp, and cling to Haru for dear life while he totally loses himself in the beautiful, overpowering feeling of it all.

Makoto is married to his long-time best friend. He just came inside the striking, irresistible body of the only man he has ever loved or wanted. Haru is holding onto him, protecting him, like he always has and like Makoto knows he always will. Haru is the most treasured blessing Makoto could ever receive in his life, and he will have him forever. All Makoto will _ever_ want or need in life, and every life after that, is hugging him right now, whispering how he’s right here with him.

Makoto coughs as too much feeling clogs his throat. He tries to sit up more, sniffling. “I love you so much, Haruka,” he weeps. “I’ve been in love with you my whole life.”

“I know,” Haru says gently, placing his forehead to Makoto’s. He uses his thumbs to scrub Makoto’s tears away. “I love you, too. More than anything. Always more than everything else.”

Makoto squeaks and drops his head. Haru still doesn’t let him go. He presses a soft kiss to Makoto’s cheek and repeatedly whispers that they’re okay and that he’s not going anywhere. Makoto lets Haru handle him. He’s in no shape to move or speak right now. The only things he can do are sob and keep Haru in a tight hug.

They don’t have scheduled sex, but at least a few times a month they come together like this. Makoto remembers the first time, back in Haru’s apartment, and he honestly can’t say that his reaction has changed very much since then.

Makoto doesn’t know why, but having Haru on top like this, in the bath, doused in water, does something to him. It makes him feel so bare, so hollow, stripped down to the very purest of feeling.

Makoto lifts his head again, feeling relieved that Haru is still right here with him. Haru loves having sex like this, Makoto knows it, and he’s sure Haru would ask to do this every day if he could. But Haru also knows how much it takes out of Makoto emotionally every time, so he settles for it being a special occasion. Makoto feels guilty about it, but Haru always assures him that he doesn’t mind, that it makes each time just that more special.

Makoto finds each time like this special as well, even though it’s so intense. It feels incredibly good to break down every now and then, and let his love and passion for Haru reform him. Makoto doesn’t mind shattering, just as long as he knows Haru will be there to put him back together.

Haru takes Makoto’s hand, kissing the silver band on his finger. “Are you okay?”

Makoto nods, sniffling roughly and gulping. “I’m – I’m okay,” he says. He chuckles a bit to ease the tension. “I’m getting too old for this, yeah?”

Haru shakes his head, kissing Makoto’s palm. “No, not at all. I…” He looks away for a moment then back at Makoto. Haru’s face is pink, and Makoto knows it has nothing to do with what they just did. “What you feel,” Haru tries again, and his voice is small, less confident than it was before. “I feel it, too. Every time. I just can’t say it or show it like you can. I wish…I wish that I could, for you.”

Makoto doesn’t know what to say. Haru is perfect to him, as is. “You show me every day, Haruka.”

Haru grins, relaxing a little. “We can just lay here for awhile.” Makoto nods in agreement. Haru gently eases off him, letting Makoto stretch out as much as he possibly can in their bathtub. Haru lies on top of him, nuzzling his head right under Makoto’s chin. He’s just as boiling as Makoto feels, but it doesn’t bother him. Feels good.

They keep their hands wandering and slow, fondling each other’s wet, sticky flesh. Makoto closes his eyes, listening to the water slightly splash as their bodies disturb it. Haru lazily rubs his chest, and he moves his head every once in a while to kiss Makoto’s neck.

Makoto lets his mind and body completely collapse and rest. He can’t feel anything but Haru on top of him, and the only sound in his ear is Haru’s breathing. Makoto is so tranquil and secure that he hardly feels like himself anymore. It seems as if he doesn’t have a beginning or an end. He’s too wrapped up in all the goodness of Haru to tell.

“We shouldn’t fall asleep in here,” Makoto finds himself saying, after awhile longer. Haru makes a small noise as if that was exactly his intention and sits up on him. He dips his hands into the water, letting it run down his face. Makoto laughs. “You know that’s not clean, right?”

“It’s better than clean,” Haru answers. Makoto laughs again and starts scooping water as well. He douses Haru in it, and Haru whips his head back, closing his eyes and grinning.

When Makoto lets water from his fingertips drip down onto Haru’s shoulders, he snatches his head forward again and actually giggles, looking and sounding so much younger. “Makoto, that tickles!” He takes Makoto’s hand, but Makoto has no strength to offer.

Haru’s blue eyes are so vibrant and open, his face is animated, and there’s a noticeable smile on his face. Haru just looks so unbelievably happy, natural and relaxed. Perfectly at home on top of Makoto and in the water – bathed in his two elements.

Makoto’s breath hitches. Suddenly, they’re six again, back in Iwatobi, letting their feet splash in cold pond water as they watch ducks toddle nearby. He knew even then, somehow, that he wanted to always share water with Haru – because that’s when it’s the most magical – and here he is, still, sharing water with Haru, seeing Haru in his most primal form.

Makoto has no idea how he got so lucky. Haru could have anyone he wants, could be doing anything in any place in the world right now, yet he’s right here. Haru loves _him_ and wants to spend all their lives together.

Makoto swallows hard, wanting to cry again, but he holds it back. He’s done enough of that already. Only wants to enjoy having something so special right now.

“You’re perfect like this, Haruka,” Makoto whispers, cupping water in his hand and spreading it on Haru’s chest. The water glistens on his skin. “You’re like a mer...man. Haruka, the merman.”

Makoto looks up at Haru, expecting a deadpan or some sort of humor, but Haru is staring at him, wide-eyed and still, and some of the color has disappeared from his face. “Really?” Haru asks, his voice a sheer whiff of air.

Makoto blinks at him. Haru seems anxious for some reason. “Um, yes, I mean it,” he says. “Why do you think I always get this way when we do this? You belong in the water, Haru. Free in the water.”

Haru frowns, not like he’s angry but overcome with something. He lets out a gust of shaky breath, placing his forehead to Makoto’s, clasping his hands on his neck. “I belong with _you_ ,” Haru urges through gritted teeth. “You make me free in the water.”

Makoto shudders, hugging Haru as tightly as he can. He moans as he feels Haru’s cock already getting hard again against his stomach. Makoto too feels more and more pressure building, as he keeps Haru close to him like this.

“Makoto?”

“Yes, Haru?”

“Tell me a story…about us…and me…as a…”

“Merman?” Makoto asks. Haru nods, burying his face in his neck. Makoto can feel the heat from Haru’s face on his skin. Haru has never really acted like this before or requested anything like this from him, but Makoto won’t deny him. He’ll never deny Haru of anything he wants.

“O-okay,” Makoto says. “I’m not much of a storyteller.”

“That’s all right,” Haru mumbles, reaching down and grasping Makoto’s cock, stroking it firmly. “I’m gonna ride you again in a minute. I just want to hear this while I’m doing it.”

Makoto moans, shifting so he’s sitting up and giving Haru more space. It doesn’t matter that the water is cold now, or that there are _bits_ of both him and Haru floating about, all he wants to do is give in to Haru’s craving, offer him something he’s obviously always wanted.

“What about me?” Makoto asks, giving Haru’s cock a few strong strokes. “Should I be a shipwrecked sailor or something?”

Haru lifts up, sliding down on Makoto, causing them both to gasp. Haru’s eyelashes flutter, and he smiles. “That, or a merman, too. My tail is blue. Yours can be green.”

Makoto moans, popping his hips and making Haru shout. “You’ve thought about this before, Nanase?”

Haru wiggles on him, looking away and blushing all over. “Maybe a couple of times.”

Makoto places a finger to Haru’s chin and guiding his face back so they can look at each other. “It sounds like a really good story,” Makoto assures. Haru smiles beautifully and kisses him, starts slowly rocking on his cock.

Makoto gasps and holds on to Haru’s hips, trying to split his focus between their sex and their story. “So,” Makoto breathes against Haru’s mouth, “one day a beautiful, sparkling merman named Haruka is gathering sea shells when he...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really love these two...


	5. Thursday

“Haru, this isn’t working.”

“It’s working fine.”

“How can you possibly know that?”

“Your cock looks like he’s enjoying himself.”

“Haruka!”

“Makoto?”

Makoto sighs, throwing his head back on the pillow. He casually jerks himself and pushes down, squeezing himself around the slippery, thick rubber piece inside of him. It feels _nice_ , but Makoto can’t help but cringe just slightly as he fucks himself. He can only imagine what people back home would say if they saw him like this.

“Makoto, stop imagining your parents’ faces,” Haru says in a choppy breath. “We do kinkier stuff than this all the time.” Haru slams down on the toy; they both flinch, and Makoto feels the slick rubber slide deeper into him.

"A-ah," Makoto grunts, pushing his ass down against it. Haru pushes down as well, and Makoto loosens his ass to feed Haru more. Makoto licks his lips, trying to concentrate on his protest – not the hunk of toy that’s stretching him out, making him feel senselessly overstuffed.

“I…I know,” Makoto pants. “It’s just…this is the _most_ embarrassing.” He raises his head and looks up at Haru who’s deadpanning him.

“How is this any more embarrassing than anything else we do?” Haru asks.

Makoto rolls his eyes, shaking his head.

It’s not the most typical night in their house; then again, it’s not especially surprising that they've ended up in this position either.

Over the past couple of years, Thursdays have unconsciously become their night to be a bit more adventurous, almost as if they want to prepare themselves for the weekend. Fridays pass them by unbelievably fast, and Makoto only has to coach on Saturday mornings, unless there’s a meet. Haru, of course, flat-out refuses to attend scheduled practices or do much of anything for his career profile on weekends, confidently claiming, ‘ _I’ll quit pro if I can’t have at least a couple of free days in the water.’_

So here they are, naked and flushed on the living room floor. Their sweaty legs are intertwined, and their asses knock together as they as jerk themselves off and slowly, deeply ride a double-ended dildo.

It’s not as though they don’t use toys. Haru has built up an extensive collection for them over the years, but for whatever reason this particular _item_ makes Makoto feel _weird_. However, that could easily be because they didn’t buy this thing themselves.

Makoto peeks down at the toy as he and Haru continue to glide on it. “Maybe it’s the color?”

“R-really?” Haru says in a gasp. Makoto feels a little more of it slide out of him as he pushes it deeper up Haru's ass. Haru slams back, and Makoto works his ass hard against him, biting his lip and squeaking.

“Was that a good one?” Haru asks. All Makoto can do is nod. He likes the feeling of Haru’s muscular ass pressing firmly to his, and he thrusts his cheeks roughly so their sweaty skins slick together.

Haru moans, curling his toes. “Don’t…ignore the subject, Makoto. What’s wrong with the color? We use lots of color.”

Makoto groans in frustration, stops jerking and simply rubs his palm over the wet head of his cock. It’s difficult enough to get completely into this – Haru asking why it’s all so embarrassing isn’t making it any easier.

“Because, Haru,” Makoto manages, “we have colors that make sense for a penis – and don’t start on the blue and green ones because you _know_ that’s different.”

“How is it any different?”

“Ugh. Those colors at least _mean_ something to us. This is…this is princess pink!”

Makoto opens his eyes when he hears Haru chuckle. His husband has stopped jerking, and is just squeezing himself around the rubber piece, grinning and resting back on his arms as if he were merely watching TV. Makoto doesn’t know if he should be more annoyed or turned on by how calm and sexy his husband looks right now.

“Princess pink?” Haru teases.

Makoto’s ears burn, which is surprising since he clearly finds riding a thick, pink rod so much more mortifying. “ _Yes_ , Haru. I do have a younger sister, after all. I think I know _princess pink_ when I see it.” Haru only laughs again, causing Makoto to vaguely moan. In this position, every clench and spasm Haru gives, he can feel, too.

The moan cuts off Haru’s laughter. His eyes widen for a moment, and he shimmies on the dildo. “Haru!” Makoto gasps, arching his back just slightly as the rubbery head grazes all around his nerves. He wants to start touching himself again, but the delicate, burning pleasure has him trapped – even if it’s from a pink demon.

“You know Nagisa’s taste in gifts for us,” Haru says in a low voice as he keeps wiggling against the dildo and into Makoto. “What else did you expect?”

“N-not this,” Makoto moans, deciding to wiggle as well. Haru whimpers, and Makoto rolls his hips. “Especially not pink. It’s like he’s…watching us. Like his spirit is in this dildo.”

“ _Mmm_ , Makoto, you’re so cute,” Haru moans, giving his blushing, dripping cock a rough tug. “I can’t believe you just said Nagisa’s spirit is in the dildo we’re fucking.”

“It’s not funny, Haruka.”

“It is, a little. Besides, that’s exactly what he wants you to think. Don’t let him win.”

“Haru…”

Haru heaves a heavy sigh and sits up a little, bending the dildo and making it slowly draw back from Makoto. Makoto releases a long sigh as the firm rubber tugs at him. “Okay, I’ll be honest with you,” Haru says. “This isn’t so great for me either, but you know the rule. We try everything we get at least once. Right?”

“I know,” Makoto breathes, sitting up as well. This time it’s Haru who bites his lip and squeaks. “I guess you’re right. This doesn’t feel _bad_. I…” He looks down again at the fat, pink monster that connects them. “This is just too floppy, and it doesn’t have even the tiniest bit of a curve – you know how I like it in me. What do you think?”

Haru shrugs, resting his weight on his palms as he lifts himself a bit and rides the toy. Makoto whines, more from watching Haru than anything else. Only Haru can make something so silly as riding a pink, double-ended dildo seem so graceful.

“It’s really thick, which I like,” Haru finally says, as if he’s deciding on swimwear. “But I agree, it’s too slack and has no real detail or definition at all. Nagisa must have gone to the cheap aisle.”

Makoto slaps a hand over his face. “Why – _why_ does my husband know the difference between cheap and expensive double-ended dildos?”

“Because it’s important,” Haru says simply. “Hey, look at me.” Makoto releases his hand from his face. Haru’s eyes are hazy, but Makoto knows him well enough to detect the seriousness in his voice. “I have to know what good quality is, and I don’t care if this isn’t so great for the same reason. Know why?”

“Why?” Makoto whispers, already shuddering.

Haru smashes down on the dildo, which makes Makoto cry out. Haru’s eyes flare again, and he shifts his focus between Makoto and the rubber shoved inside him. “Because I love seeing you like this,” Haru nearly growls. “It’s why I didn’t want us on our knees. I love stuffing your ass with things, watching you get off to it.”

Makoto can’t hold back the noisy whimper that escapes his throat. He lies back on the pillow, clamping both hands over his burning face. It doesn’t help. Haru’s words have already punctured his sweaty skin and are making their way to his cock and ass.

“Haru _ka_ ,” Makoto whines, “that is so embarrassing!”

“It’s also true, and you know you love it. I can get you to cum five times with Sea Monster.”

“Sea Monster vibrates,” Makoto mutters into his hands. “It’s curved like you _and_ has attachments!”

“Makoto?”

“What – what do you want?”

“Are you still thinking about what I said?”

“Maybe…”

“Good, use it to make this work. I didn’t think we would take this long.”

Makoto sighs thickly and nods. He relaxes himself, waiting for Haru to get comfortable again. They then start pushing down against the dildo, collaborating on slides and squeezes to keep the rubber piece in between them, working themselves with the same force and rhythm.

Makoto repeatedly moans while he rides. He opens his eyes to watch Haru fuck himself and jerk his cock. The way he touches himself, so confidently and with such a smooth roll of his palm, distracts Makoto from his own needy erection.

“Makoto. Focus,” Haru grits out, reaching down with his other hand to cup and massage his balls.

Makoto swallows a noise, stroking himself and rubbing his thumb around the head of his cock, smearing precum. “You’re asking…so much of me tonight, Haru.”

Haru only grins as he closes his eyes and touches his chest. He tilts up his hips, his hand moving faster on himself while the other pinches his nipples. That, more than anything, throws Makoto into the moment. Watching Haru so unabashedly pleasure himself makes Makoto want to feel that good, too.

Again and again they thrust together with loud, moist slaps, pulling themselves apart and letting the dildo withdraw from them. They slowly begin increasing their speed, their damp backs rubbing against the floor, and their throaty sounds tangling as their legs do. They bang their asses into each other, gasping as the twin ends reach so deeply up inside them.

Regardless of the slight awkwardness and embarrassment Makoto feels, double-ending like this does feel really good. Not only the sensation of the dildo, steadily working in and out of his hole, but the act of cracking his ass against Haru's, feeling his contractions all the way through the thick piece of rubber. The best part of this, anytime they do it, is how connected they are – literally and through the sensations.

“Haru?” Makoto gasps in question.

“Ready for more?” Haru asks, out of breath. Makoto kicks his legs as a response.

They start crashing into each other; the huge pink length of rubber staying put as their holes frantically consume and discharge it over and over. The slapping noises grow progressively louder and faster as their pleasure intensifies, and Makoto starts whining, driving himself with increasing power.

“ _Y-yes_ ,” Makoto chokes out. He looks up weakly at Haru who’s sweating profusely from his face and chest, whacking himself against Makoto as the dildo drives into them both, pummeling their holes in luscious harmony. Makoto can easily feel Haru’s pulsation, and it makes his cock throb in his grip.

“More,” Haru commands, and his eyes are so dark that the blue shade is hardly visible. Makoto nods lazily, feeling no need to protest.

They take longer, sweeping thrusts, using the whole length of the dildo. They plunge themselves onto it, both their asses rising high and away from each other before slapping roughly and loudly back together. Makoto is sure their cheeks must be bright red by now, and if they go any harder they might risk subtle bruising. However, this doesn’t make him want to stop.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Haru groans through his grunts. “I can’t take this anymore.”

Makoto is too far-gone to lift his head. “W-what’s happening?” he rasps. Haru doesn’t answer him, but Makoto does manage to open his eyes when he feels Haru shift and sit up. The heavy push of stimulation from the movement makes Makoto shout.

“Yeah, that’s what I want,” Haru moans, slowly licking his lips. “I want to see you cum. Make you do it.”

Makoto sighs, and the breath falls into a whimper. He honestly doesn’t care what Haru wants to do, just as long as this feeling doesn’t go away. “What – _mmm_ – what about you?”

“After…” Haru trails off.

Makoto suddenly shouts again, this time in a high-pitched voice, as Haru rams the huge girth the dildo hard and fast up into him. "Ah! Ah! O-oh, _fuck_ , that feels so good!"

“Yeah? Even though it’s pink?” Haru teases. He rapidly slides down on the toy, making it thrust in and out of Makoto.

Makoto cries out, forgetting about his cock so he can put both hands on the floor to support himself. He pushes down as low as he can, opening as much of himself outwards as possible. Haru only keeps driving the pink cock harder, slamming himself on it so the head rams Makoto’s insides. His heart starts clobbering in his chest, and his ass is so tender that each movement of the dildo makes him feel like his balls are going to explode.

"Don’t stop!" Makoto pleads, although he has no reason to beg. Haru isn’t going to let him go until he’s filthy in his own cum.

“When do I ever stop?” Haru asks, lowly, and it sounds like he’s pretty close, too. Makoto’s hand finds himself, and he starts pounding away at his cock. Makoto is in such a blur right now – a thick, pink, rubbery blur of pleasure, and he never wants it to end.

Makoto whimpers, moaning with each touch. Nothing can ever substitute for Haru’s cock, but Makoto must admit that he does enjoy being filled with something so huge, so fat that it makes him feel like he might split open. Every part of him burns and throbs so good, and he starts humming pitifully as hot pressure builds. Haru responds by going faster, fucking himself harder against the dildo and into Makoto, groaning and gasping Makoto’s name.

“Ma-Makoto, look at me,” Haru pants.

Makoto does his best to obey as soon as possible. He can't do much of anything but thrust down against the pressure, and spread his legs wider as shocking waves of heat flood his entire body.

He does manage to keep his eyes on Haru, however. He whines at the expression on his husband’s face; the way he's completely focused, breathing heavily with his lips just barely parted. Haru looks so dark and dangerous and hazy and sexy and hungry.

“Love you,” Makoto moans, right here and now, while getting stuffed with a pink double-ended dildo.

Haru shudders, closing his eyes for a moment. “Makoto.” He wipes his forehead, shuddering again. “Scream my name when you cum.”

“I-I don’t know any other names,” Makoto breathlessly whispers, shaking his head.

Haru stares at him, wide-eyed and still, similar to how he did last night in the bath. “Good,” he says, softly, before moving again.

Makoto completely collapses to the floor. He writhes and bucks against Haru’s push, and his name is the only word Makoto can remember, so he whines it over and over. Saying it with every jerk of his hand, chanting it on every thrust of the toy. Until Makoto’s voice stops working. Until he seizes up and whites out, cumming hard and messily as Haru fucks him, fucks himself, pleases them both.

H-Haru _ka_!” Makoto screams as he tightly shuts his eyes, working on autopilot while milking himself all over his chest, hand, and stomach. He slows his hand, thinking it’s all over, but Haru moans so deeply that Makoto immediately cums again, a second round gushing from him. He twitches as more hot cum splatters against his skin.

“Makoto…” Haru whispers, trailing off.

Makoto isn’t sure when he’s finally empty, but he sighs anyway as the pressure subsides, at least little. He feels incredibly good, tingly, and his blood pumps fast and joyfully through his veins. He opens his eyes, lifting his head. Haru isn’t riding or touching himself anymore, purely staring and panting like a dog, like he wants to completely devour Makoto. Dive _right_ into his skin.

Makoto bites his bottom lip. He’ll never get tired of Haru looking at him like this. All he has to do is ask, and Makoto will happily let Haru eat him alive. “A-are…are you ready?” he asks, faintly.

Haru nods, swallowing hard. “I came as soon as you started saying my name, and I’m still really hard. You’re so good, Makoto.”

Makoto whines, mindlessly messing his fingers in the cum puddle on his inner thigh. Somehow, it relaxes him and keeps him focused. “Lay down, okay?”

Haru does as he’s told, and Makoto gradually sits up, whimpering and gasping as his hypersensitive ass pulsates around the toy. “Are you going to pull it out?” Haru asks, opening his legs and massaging the head of his cock.

“No. You didn’t,” Makoto says. “And I want to feel it, when you cum.”

Haru moans, curling his toes. “Please. Do it…”

Makoto doesn’t wait for another command. He wraps his hand around the bit of rubber that’s not inside either of them and holds it steadily in place. Makoto thrusts down onto it, pushing it up quickly and deeply into Haru, causing Haru to release a loud, choked cry. Makoto bites his tongue to distract himself from the aching stimulation that continues to assault his own ass, focusing instead on his husband.

Haru starts _purring_ to the rhythm of Makoto fucking him. His face is a perfect shade of red, his mouth is wet with drool, and he jerks his sticky cock with harsh abandon. It’s such an erotic sight, and Makoto feels like he’s in a trance. It’s as if he’s spent his whole life pleasing Haru like this while in a sleeping state, and he’s just now waking up to actually enjoy it.

Makoto fucks the dildo harder, and Haru slides down roughly onto it, giving sharp hollers every time. Makoto is sitting in flames; he feels the pulse every time Haru does, and he can’t lie and say that he doesn’t enjoy fucking Haru with different things, too. Watching his tight, perfectly pink hole get stretched and pleasured and even a bit _destroyed_.

“This feel good?” Makoto rasps.

“Feels good!” Haru promptly answers, giving his cockhead a squeeze. “Better, with you controlling it.”

“Ah. You want control?” Makoto asks, not really caring for a response. He stops thrusting and simply strangles the chuck of exposed rubber, wiggling it and prodding it frantically inside of Haru. Haru moves on the floor like a ragdoll being controlled, and his lean frame is obviously no match for Makoto or the huge, pink hunk of rubber.

“Makoto!” Haru screams, tensing his body. He lets go of his cock and jerks his hips forward, cumming at once. The creamy fluid spurts from his cock and down to his balls, getting on his torso and Makoto’s legs.

“Haruka,” Makoto moans, rolling his hips down on the toy. The rubber head grazes his prostate, and it somehow triggers an unexpected orgasm. Makoto finds himself cumming, _again_ , almost painfully this time. He wraps a hand around his cock, hissing as his balls throb, and squeezes out a few globs of cum. Makoto keeps his eyes on Haru, watching him as he loses himself to his orgasm.

Haru just keeps feebly crying out, bucking as his body shakes. Makoto gasps and jerks, too, his end of the dildo jabbing into him. Haru vibrates frantically for a few more moments, and then crumples on the floor.

Makoto senses the heat radiating off of Haru, and he feels like he’s living some sort of dream. Haru is always just so calm, even a bit vacant sometimes, so seeing him raw and needy and frantic and loud is incredible. It’s a different sort of awe and appreciation, compared to last night, but it has all the same importance to Makoto.

Haru, at last, settles and stops flailing. He catches his breath before sitting up. He’s still so twitchy and flushed, and Makoto finds himself feeling even more attracted to Haru than he did two minutes ago.

Haru opens his eyes, and they stare at each other, breathing as though they just swam the hardest relay of their lives. Makoto’s mind gradually pieces itself back together the longer they sit still.

“Okay?” Makoto asks.

Haru nods. “Just intense. You?”

“Still breathing,” Makoto answers. He and Haru silently agree on their next move and plant their hands against the floor. “One. Two. Three.”

Makoto and Haru leisurely raise and slide themselves completely off the dildo. Haru groans as Makoto winces. Not only is his ass utterly destroyed, but the sudden emptiness is a bit uncomfortable. He feels like he’s made of jelly, and he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to support himself on his own. He falls back against his pillow and sighs, letting the jagged throb travel throughout his body.

“I’m glad I don’t have to go in early tomorrow. I might not make it otherwise,” Makoto says. He’s hot and sticky and sore and covered in fluids, but he also feels so good, and he doesn’t want to move at all. Makoto’s relieved when Haru somehow finds the strength to crawl over to him. He’s just as steamy and filthy, but Makoto doesn’t care about that either.

Haru lies beside him, curling against him. “So,” he breathes, trailing his fingers down the cum streaks on Makoto’s body. “Was this so horrible after all?”

Makoto lazily laughs and drops his hand on Haru’s leg, squeezing his thigh. “Is it ever? I think I definitely came three times.”

“Oh, you certainly did,” Haru says, gently playing with the skin of Makoto’s sac. “I vaguely remember someone telling you that he’d get you back.”

Makoto rolls his eyes, thinking about Tuesday night and opening his legs wider so Haru can really cup him. “That’s what this was all about? You finding a way to make me as dirty as you?” Haru merely hums in agreement. “Great. Well, you’re not going to tell Nagisa we finally used it, are you?”

“He always asks me when we talk,” Haru says. “It might be better to get it over with.”

“Then he’ll want details…”

“I can tell him the truth about that, too,” Haru assures. “I’ll tell him not to go cheap when it comes to our sex life. I only want the very best shoved up my husband.”

“That’s embarrassing, Haru,” Makoto whines, clamping a hand over his face.

Haru softly laughs, kissing Makoto’s knuckles. “You love it.”

“No – I love _you_ ,” Makoto corrects. “This was…okay.” He removes his hand and looks at Haru, grinning as he traces Haru’s pretty mouth. “Only for you will I ever stick a princess pink, double-ended dildo up my ass and disgrace the Tachibana name.”

Haru nips at his finger, blushing. “Does this mean you don’t want to keep it?”

Makoto stares at the ceiling while he honestly considers; it doesn’t take ten seconds to decide. “Let’s send it back to Nagisa as a gift. We won’t even wash it first.”

Haru gasps. “That’s embarrassing, Makoto.”

“You love it,” Makoto mumbles before pressing his lips to Haru’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I'm Estelle - complete MakoHaru trash. Goodnight.


	6. Friday

Haru pulls on Makoto’s hand as they giggle and stumble out of the restaurant. Makoto gazes up into the night’s sky and grins, his rosy face clearly visible even now.

“W-were we really in there t-that long?” Makoto slurs, more loudly than he needs to. He frantically looks around. “It’s dark, Haru!”

Haru shakes his head, which he sort of regrets since his brain already feels like it’s spinning. He wipes his forehead, even though there’s nothing there. It’s a bit cold tonight, but the alcohol makes Haru feel like he’s sweating. “It was dark when we got here, Makoto.”

“No, it wasn’t. I remember,” Makoto says, running a hand through his hair and scrunching up his face as if he’s concentrating. Behind them, a woman steps out of the restaurant and gives Makoto a once-over before heading to her car. A spike of anger briefly clouds Haru’s vision.

“We should go home before it gets any darker,” Makoto suggests, obviously not catching the woman’s stare. He squeezes Haru’s hand and begins to lead him away from the car park, but Haru keeps his ground as best as he can while holding on to a giant such as Makoto. Makoto jerks, apparently startled by not being able to move Haru. “What’s wrong?”

Haru doesn’t know what to say. He feels heavy and spacey. Makoto’s hunched over, wobbly composure tells Haru he’s not faring any better. They probably _should_ go home, but somehow he knows that’s not going to happen – yet.

Haru waits patiently while a few more people come out of the restaurant, and then takes a survey of the area. It’s a dark, busy Friday night. Everyone is either rushing home or heading toward their after-work destination, so no one is paying any attention to them – well at least to Haru. He’s seen _plenty_ of people paying _way_ too much attention to Makoto tonight.

Even though it’s beyond annoying, Haru can’t honestly blame anyone. Makoto decided to wear one of his old uni flannels tonight with perhaps the tightest black muscle shirt Haru has ever seen. If he weren’t worried about getting Makoto arrested for indecent exposure, Haru would’ve started humping his leg and sucking his balls hours ago.

Haru makes up his mind – or what’s left of it – and tugs on Makoto’s hand, dragging him away from the building. He’s happy when he feels no resistance from Makoto as he’s guided to the shadowy alley alongside the restaurant.

“Haru?” Makoto asks, giggling. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” Haru mumbles. It’s difficult to keep hold of Makoto, let alone walk in a straight line. Haru keeps tripping over his feet, but he doesn’t stop walking until the chatter and sounds of cars passing by are faint in his ears. They’re about halfway through the alley, not too far from the restaurant’s garbage bins.

“Oh, Haruka, let’s just go home!” Makoto whines, squinting in the dark space. “You can do whatever you want to me there.”

Haru smirks, licking his lips. He very well plans on doing to Makoto what he pleases as soon as they’re through the door, but he needs something now. Needs Makoto’s body _at this very second_.

“I know I will, and I will right here, too,” Haru says. He shoves Makoto against the side of the building. Makoto gasps, giggling and squirming in place.

“You really want me, don’t you?” Makoto asks.

Haru doesn’t bother answering. He presses himself to Makoto, rising on his toes and digging his tongue deeply into his mouth. Makoto sighs and moans, melting right against Haru’s lips. He bends down to give Haru more access, evidently not caring too much about them being outside in an alleyway.

Haru’s relieved and definitely couldn’t care less either. He smears his tongue all in and around Makoto’s mouth. He tastes so good – like spicy alcohol and the chocolate strawberry he had for dessert. Haru groans eagerly into Makoto’s mouth, feeling even more wasted. He starts to quicken the tempo of their kiss, and Makoto’s hands go to Haru’s hair. He tugs on the strands, sucking Haru’s tongue.

Haru whimpers, wanting to fall, and thrusts against Makoto, feeling himself grow even harder than he already was – harder than he’s been all night. Makoto is the _best_ damn kisser in the whole fucking world. He simply _has_ to be.

Haru’s hands move down and squeeze Makoto’s ass. Makoto jerks, gnawing on Haru’s top lip. Makoto has the world’s best ass as well, and Haru wants that ass more than anything right now. He’s hotter and sweatier and more alive than he’s felt all day – but he’s sure that’s only partially because of the liquor. Being with Makoto always makes Haru feel so fucking alive.

He continues to push his mounting erection into Makoto’s crotch, thrusting more and more until he feels the warm, thick beast rise in Makoto’s jeans. Haru sighs in relief when they’re both good and hard, wondering if he’s patient enough not to just spill right now because of how great all of this feels.

Makoto breaks out of the kiss, gasping and groaning. “Haru. _Please_ ,” he pants. “Take me home.”

Haru opens his mouth but hears laughter. Both he and Makoto turn their attentions to the end of the street and watch as people cross the alley, passing right by them.

Makoto’s cock seems to twitch, so Haru continues humping his front, placing a hand over Makoto’s mouth when he drunkenly cries out. He sucks and laps at Haru’s palm, moaning recklessly as Haru grinds on him. He briefly considers just keeping his hand locked to Makoto’s mouth and dry humping him until they both cum.

Haru’s entire body is shaking, and his heart is in his throat as he tries to concentrate on the commotion not too far from them, but it’s hard to when Makoto is so shamelessly lost in pleasure, droning nonsense even though he’s muzzled.

Haru doesn’t turn back until the voices trail off, and he doesn’t see anyone anymore. He peels his hand away from Makoto, and it’s covered in drool. Haru licks away every bit of it, keeping his eyes on his husband. Makoto’s drool tastes like alcohol, like candy – like sustenance.

“You want to go home?” Haru asks. “You don’t want this?” He thrusts against Makoto again.

Makoto squeezes his eyes shut, sucking in air. He digs his fingers into Haru’s forearms, and the sting makes his cock throb. “H- _Haru_ ,” Makoto squeaks. “You know what I mean. Believe me, I want your cock in me so bad right now.” Makoto moans and knocks his head back against the building.

Haru balls his fingers into fists and focuses on the pressure to keep from screaming or bending Makoto over right now. He sort of, _really_ , wants to punish Makoto for being so attractive – so big, gentle, cute, and strong. It truly is unfair how easily Makoto makes Haru horny. He feels like he spends half his life trying _not_ to let something Makoto either says or does trigger an orgasm.

Haru pouts, wondering if Makoto painfully teases him just to drive him insane, but Makoto honestly does seem remorseful – at least this time around. “ _Fine_ ,” Haru sighs in defeat. “I’m sorry - you’re right. One more kiss then we’ll leave, okay?”

“Good! Yeah? Then – then that’s okay…” Makoto trails off from his jumbled words, appearing let down. He leans forward to let Haru kiss him again, but as soon as their tongues graze, everything comes undone.

The kiss is a lot more heated and demanding than Haru anticipated. All the alcohol and excitement for the weekend seems to just be bursting from them. Haru moves his lips down Makoto’s face, starts slobbering on his neck. Makoto’s skin is incredibly soft and smells like dessert. It makes Haru dizzier and hornier. His cock is so full now that he thinks he may die. Haru just wants to _scream_. He wants to suck Makoto off. He wants to cum so fucking badly.

“Makoto,” Haru groans, licking his collarbone. “I just fucking want to eat you _up_. Give me your ass, and I will. At least let me put my tongue in you.”

Makoto gives something between a howl and a whimper, pushing Haru back. “D-dammit, Haru! Why do you have to talk like that? We had a deal.” Makoto’s face gets as pouty as he can make it, and Haru smirks as he runs his hands down Makoto’s shirt, feeling the ripples of muscle underneath. His body is firm and unbelievably perfect.

“This is all mine, right?” Haru suddenly whispers, only half teasing.

Makoto tilts his head. “Of course, Haru.” He takes Haru’s hand and slips it underneath his muscle shirt, pressing it to his chest. Haru shudders and moans, feeling Makoto’s smooth, warm skin and strong heartbeat. “All of me is yours, Haruka,” Makoto softly adds with a smile.

Haru gawks at Makoto, dumbly, feeling a dense pressure in his chest and hearing a slight hum in his ears. It’s just like when Makoto called him a merman, or said so sincerely last night, “ _I don’t know any other names_.” It’s an incredibly overwhelming sensation, being the reciprocator of Makoto’s endless bouts of tender honesty. They’ve been together all their lives, but Haru still finds himself in awe of how genuine and pure Makoto truly is.

Haru’s hand falls from Makoto’s chest. He wishes that he had the right words for Makoto, but that’s always nearly impossible.

Makoto was born to express and share feelings, but Haru has always been slower with that part of development. There’s definitely no way he’ll be able to come up with anything even remotely decent right now – not while carrying around a stomach full of alcohol.

Still, Haru wants to give Makoto something – needs to _do_ something with himself since he’s so inadequate when it comes to speaking. He finds himself giving a quick survey of the alley then drops to his knees. Haru looks up at Makoto. His eyes are unfocused, his chest is heaving roughly beneath his tight, black shirt, and his breath is faint, light.

Haru may not have the words, but he’s always considered himself to be pretty good with his body. He starts unfastening Makoto’s jean, and it’s a testament to how buzzed and needy Makoto must be since he doesn’t even protest. He merely sucks on his thumb knuckle, grinning and giggling.

“Don’t even think it, Haru. You need this more than I do right now.”

Haru says nothing as he reaches into Makoto’s boxers and eases out his cock. Makoto shoves his thumb into his mouth, biting on it and whimpering. “Hmm,” Haru teases. “Let’s see how right you are.”

Haru stares at Makoto’s cock, trying to concentrate. It’s so big and thick and heavy; he’ll need each and every one of his brain cells to suck it good. Haru takes a deep breath, licking his lips and opening his mouth wide. He slides Makoto between his lips, attempting to keep his tongue all the way flat.

Makoto groans, so Haru takes more of him in. But he abruptly gags, his throat constricting and the alcohol sloshing in his stomach.

Haru feels a tug on his hair, and he’s swiftly pulled away. When he looks up again, Makoto is shaking his head, frowning. “No,” Makoto says, and he sounds more sober than he has in hours.

Haru swallows several times, willing his throat to relax. “W-what’s the matter?”

“You shouldn’t do this, Haru,” Makoto says, sighing. “It’s not a good idea.”

“Don’t tell me that you’ve suddenly got a problem with getting your cock sucked in public.” Haru kisses the creased skin of Makoto’s sac.

Makoto lets out a sharp breath, leaning into Haru’s lips. “N-no, no. I have no problem with you sucking my cock in public. I just don’t think you’re fit to do it like this.”

“Like what?”

Makoto rubs the side of his face, laughing in the airy way he does when he’s bashful. “You’re too drunk, Haru, and I’m way too big for you when you’re drunk. You’ll just choke.”

Haru takes a long swipe at Makoto’s entire length, not bothering to look around when he hears laughter coming out of the restaurant again. “But…you like it when I choke on you.”

Makoto whines loudly, and his knees buckle. “Y-yeah, I do,” he pants. “But not like this. I don’t want you to get sick.” He sighs once again, shaking his head and looking helpless.

Haru feels his insides breaking. As much as he wishes Makoto was wrong, as much as he wants to just play this off and keep going, Haru knows that Makoto is right. Not all of their sexual explorations throughout the years have been successful, and they both know how badly this can end if Haru keeps pushing himself while he’s like this.

It’s endlessly frustrating for Haru. His husband’s cock is the most beautiful, powerful instrument ever crafted. But it’s also the size of a pool noodle.

Haru gradually stands in both shame and disappointment. He shrugs. “You’re right.”

Makoto looks down, quickly putting himself away. “I’m sorry, Haruka.”

“ _No_. Don’t be,” Haru urges, resting his head on Makoto’s chest. “I told you never to be sorry. I absolutely _love_ that you have an orca cock, I promise. I just wish my mouth were bigger, so I can take you the way you deserve. I’d swallow you whole every hour of the day if I could.”

Makoto trembles harshly and moans. He grabs Haru by the waist, spinning them around and pressing Haru to the building this time. The spin makes Haru dizzier, and Makoto’s aggression makes his cock throb again.

“What are you doing?” Haru asks, slightly dazed.

Makoto cups Haru’s face, kissing him hard. “I want to take you the way you deserve.”

A pulse shoots through Haru’s body. He feels himself shaking, and his face burns so badly it hurts. Haru grips Makoto’s arms. “Makoto, you don’t have to.”

Makoto laughs. “You don’t want this?” He stands back a little and sinks to his knees.

Haru gasps; his already rapidly beating heart gallops even faster, and his eyes go so wide that he feels as though they’re going to pop out of their sockets. Makoto’s gaze turns to Haru’s crotch, causing Haru to mildly hyperventilate. He instantly starts sweating, and his brain twists in his skull.

“You didn’t answer me, Haruka,” Makoto teases as he pulls down Haru’s zipper.

“Yes, yes, I want this!” Haru rushes out, nodding repeatedly. He grips the brick wall behind him, looking around for people.

“See anyone?”

“No, thankfully.”

“Thankfully? Makoto asks. “You didn’t seem to care when you were on your knees.”

“That’s different,” Haru says. “If people catch a glimpse of me pleasing you – whatever. But there’s no way I’m going to let _anyone_ watch and get off to you sucking me. Only _I’m_ allowed to see you look so good.”

Haru opens his mouth to tell Makoto something else, but he swiftly loses all sense of everything when his cock is taken out by Makoto and is released to the cold, open air.

Haru lets out a choked cry, buckling against the wall. Makoto’s hand seems insanely warm, and even just gripping his cock feels like sex. Haru opens his eyes (which he didn’t know were closed) and peers down at Makoto. Makoto’s skin is red now - even his neck is flushed – and there’s hunger in his expression.

Makoto moans. “You always get this way.”

Haru can feel Makoto’s warm breath tickling his balls, and even that feels amazingly good. “W-what way?”

“Possessive, when you drink.” Makoto smiles, rubbing his finger across the head of Haru cock.

Haru twitches, huffing out a breath. “No, I don’t.”

Makoto rolls his eyes. “Yes, you do. Since uni. You were so annoyed by our server tonight.”

“He was flirting with you,” Haru promptly claims.

“He was taking my order.” Makoto giggles. “And what about the woman who sat at the table in front of ours?”

“She was flirting with you, too.”

“She recognized me from work. I _do_ coach her niece.”

“ _Whatever_ ,” Haru mumbles, thrusting into Makoto’s grip. “Well, does it bother you? That I apparently get this way _every_ time?”

“No,” Makoto says. He swipes precum from Haru’s cock and sucks it off his finger. “I like you being possessive of me. Love that about you, actually.”

Haru grins a little, feeling relieved for some reason. “Good. Because you are mine.”

“I am,” Makoto answers softly, his lips brushing the head of Haru’s cock, making Haru jerk.

Haru groans, wiggling. “Then suck me off…”

“What if someone sees me?”

“I’ll deal with them after.”

Makoto giggles again, and Haru can only stare, gnawing on his bottom lip, as Makoto scoots closer to him, sticks out his tongue, and slowly drags it around the head of his cock. Makoto closes his eyes, moaning, letting the precum smear all over his lips like lip gloss.

Haru cries out. He feels as though he’s being shocked, and it’s the most powerful, pleasurable jolt imaginable. He shoves his palm into his mouth. He’s so lightheaded that he actually does lose balance this time, but Makoto puts his free hand against Haru’s stomach to steady him.

Makoto gazes up. He looks hypnotized, enticed. His pupils are so big now that there’s barely any green visible in the irises. Makoto always gets like this when he gives head, just becomes so thirsty – like sucking cock changes him, and Haru worships Makoto for that.

Haru leans back against the brick, placing a hand on Makoto’s shoulder. His fingers clutch the side of his neck. “Makoto,” he breathes.

A drunken noise, sort of like a whimper-bark, bursts from Makoto. Haru feels the rapid pulse from Makoto’s neck under his hand. The feeling makes even more precum ooze from his cock. Haru moans, looking around one more time to reassure that this is okay.

Haru nods to Makoto, and he gasps when Makoto wraps his hand firmly around the base of him. “I’ve got you,” Makoto assures. “Just relax. Let me suck your cock really good, drink you down. I’ll show you who’s the only person I paid attention to tonight.”

Haru groans loudly, slapping a hand over his mouth, as Makoto instantly slides his lips over him, inching his way over the stiff muscle. His hot, moist mouth totally blankets Haru’s cock, and Makoto sucks it so hard that Haru feels his eyes roll into the back of his head.

Haru remembers the first blowjob Makoto ever gave him. It was back in Iwatobi, and he had never felt happier to mostly live alone. Makoto made him scream that day, and ever since Haru has had to live his life normally while also knowing, in the back of his mind, that Tachibana Makoto is a perfect cocksucker.

Haru wasn’t prepared for such a feeling back then, but he doesn’t feel any more prepared right now either. An inhuman howl that's apparently been building in the back of his throat all night finally comes loose.

It starts low at first, but it gets louder and louder because Makoto just keeps sucking harder and harder and _impossibly harder_ , and his tongue does stuff to the bottom and sides of Haru’s cock that Haru is sure no other human can possibly do.

Haru keeps his hand fastened over his mouth. There aren’t words or regular sounds coming out of him; it’s something foreign and specific to Makoto. He knows he needs to shut up, but alcohol always breaks down his walls.

“Ma-koto…” Haru chokes out, mostly to stop himself from making such loud noises.

He drops his hand from his mouth. He has no strength to hold it there anymore, but luckily his drunken siren has finally seemed to go out. Instead, Haru lets out pitiful hums and whimpers every few seconds. He sounds like he’s being tortured, and if he is then it’s the best cruelty imaginable.

The hand that’s on Makoto’s neck shifts up to his hair. Haru tangles his fingers in the strands. He doesn’t want to hurt Makoto, but Haru has to hold on to something.Makoto is inhaling his cock like he’s starving to death. His cheeks bloat out every time the head pokes against them, and his incredibly wet sucking and slurping noises fill up the dark alleyway.

Haru twists his fingers in Makoto’s hair, thrusting his hips. He wants to fuck Makoto’s mouth so badly because it feels so damn good, and hearing Makoto like this - knowing that he’s enjoying this just as much – turns Haru into something more primal.

Makoto opens his mouth even wider for Haru, makes that whimper-bark sound again, and bobs against the push of Haru’s thrust. He takes his other hand and starts massaging Haru’s balls. “ _Fuck_. You’re so good,” Haru moans.

Haru can’t watch Makoto anymore. It’s far too real, seeing Makoto’s lips stretch around his cock, his large hand caress his sac, and his tongue dart out to lick the underside of him. Unfortunately, Haru is too detached from his body parts that aren’t in Makoto’s grip or mouth, so all he can do is dumbly stare ahead while he continues to moan, tug, and thrust.

Haru doesn’t know why, but he starts thinking about what would’ve happened if they hadn’t gotten their act together. If he hadn’t stopped being so terrified of showing his true feelings for Makoto. If he hadn’t decided to go to Tokyo. Makoto just feels so good. There’s not another soul on Earth that Haru wants or even notices.

It’s Makoto or no one for Haru, and it scares him to think about how his life would be – how he would be as a human – if he didn’t have his green-eyed backstroker.

Haru gives a loud, strangled groan, finally feeling able to shut his eyes. Makoto has to sense what he’s going through because all thoughts of anything else leave him as Makoto starts bobbing faster, sucking closer to the head.

Haru arches his back. He wants this to last for so much longer, but he's fairly sure that he'll have a stroke if he tries to stay like this. Haru’s whole body is tensing, and it feels like he’s swimming up and down a pool lane at the same time. Every single part of him, from his hair to the heels of his feet, feels like it's going to burst out of him at once.

“ _Makoto_ ,” Haru groans, not recognizing the wounded animal falling from his voice. He forces himself to look down at Makoto, and tries not to get caught up in the masterpiece before him. He pulls roughly on Makoto’s hair.

Makoto must recognize his urgency because he opens his eyes and stops sucking, but continues sliding his tongue repeatedly under Haru’s cock, like a lollipop. They moan together when they make eye contact. 

“M-Makoto,” Haru manages to choke out. “I-I can’t…any longer. You’re doing it. So, _so_ good. Making me. I-I’m gonna cum. Right now. Really hard. Gonna cum.” It’s the most ridiculous collection of words Haru has ever put together, not nearly as sexy as his usual seductions, but Haru lost functionality ages ago.

Makoto still appears to understand. His gaze becomes more alert, and he moans through a shiver. “Cum in me, Haruka. I don’t care who sees.”

Makoto places both hands on Haru’s thighs. He breathes out through his nose, relaxes his jaw, and successfully deep throats him. The suction is hard and tight and wet. Makoto swallows him whole, kissing the very base of Haru’s cock and brushing his tongue over Haru’s balls.

Haru immediately explodes. He curls his toes, lets go of Makoto’s hair, and clamps both hands over his mouth. He screams, cumming massively down Makoto's throat, unloading every bit of feeling into his husband’s mouth.

“ _Makoto_!” Haru whimpers into his palm. The untainted, honest ecstasy Makoto gives to him overpowers Haru. Floats him down a hot, vast pleasure stream. He’s always thankful that he never has to focus on something more erotic to get him through an orgasm. What he feels is always real, pure, and all on its own. What he always feels is Makoto and everything he is able to do for him.

Haru looks down, ready to collapse, but Makoto is jerking himself off. Even in the dark, Haru can see how soaked and hard he is, and Makoto’s throat is still chugging as if he hasn’t finished gulping Haru down.

Even after Makoto stop swallowing and his cheeks deflate, there’s still cum underneath his bottom lip, on the nook of his thumb, and on the hem of his shirt. Makoto notices right away, and he pumps himself faster as he licks his chin clean. He greedily eats Haru right off his hand, and sucks the cum from his shirt, growling the whole time.

Haru slides down the wall. He’s not sure if this is real life or some well-directed porno he’s luckily stepped into, and if it’s at all possible, he wants Makoto more.

Haru pushes Makoto over, making him land on his ass. “H-Haru…”

Haru doesn’t answer. Just moans and folds his mouth over the head of Makoto’s cock.

“F-fuck, Haruka!” Makoto gasps. He continues jerking himself, panting and shaking. Haru is shaking, too, feels so hot that he might melt into a puddle. He hears people laughing, but he doesn’t dare stop. He keeps sucking on Makoto’s cockhead, sighing every time Makoto’s knuckles crash against his lips.

Makoto whimpers and tugs on himself more forcefully, shifting his fist exclusively over the top portion of his cock, so that he gets precum and Haru’s drool all over his wrist. He fingers knock against Haru’s mouth over and over, and it feels so good that his lips go numb.

Haru brushes his tongue over the slit of Makoto’s cock, massaging the very tip into the minute space.

Makoto tenses, and Haru reaches up blindly to his face. Makoto takes his hand, clamping it over his mouth and shouting into Haru’s palm, popping his hips.

“ _Haru_ ,” Makoto wails into his fingers as he cums, pumping his hot, thick juice up into Haru’s mouth. Haru sighs in relief. He may not be able to take his husband’s cock right now, but he’ll always drink every last drop of him down.

When Haru finishes nursing the last few bursts, he releases his suction from Makoto with a squishy _pop_ and sits back. He licks his mouth, staring at Makoto who’s staring at him. Haru feels so lightheaded and unclear. He can hardly remember how they ended up there.

Makoto is the first to blink. He looks up and down the alley. “Maybe we should put our cocks away now.”

“Good thinking,” Haru mutters, out of breath. They both fumble with pulling up their clothes. Makoto stumbles to a stand, holding out his hand to Haru.

Haru takes it with a smile, but the moment he stands up his vision goes fuzzy. He groans, wobbling and touching his head. “Wow…”

“Lets go home, Haru,” Makoto eases, touching his shoulder. “You need some tea.” He turns around, bending down as though he wants Haru to… _hop_ on his back, like Nagisa always does with Rei.

Haru doesn’t budge. In fact, he takes a step back. “I don’t think so.”

“Come on, we’re so close to home.”

“I’m a merman. I belong in the water – not in the air.”

Makoto giggles, giving him a gorgeous smile. “You think I’d drop you? Haruka, I’m a fireman. You can trust me.”

A blush spreads over Haru’s face and neck. Makoto only ever talks about his dreams of becoming a firefighter when he’s drunk, or late at night when they’re intertwined and on the brink of falling asleep.

It’s so precious – so perfectly Makoto. _Of course_ he wants to be a fireman. _Of course_ he wants to carry Haru home. _Of course_ he’ll go through the weirdness of a princess pink double-ended dildo and come up with a merman love story, just for him.

“For Makoto, I will,” Haru finds himself saying. “He’s the greatest fireman I know.”

Makoto’s face softens; a blush creeps on his face, too. “Let’s go home.” He turns back around and bends down.

Haru takes a deep breath and vaguely runs up to him, jumping up on his back. Makoto easily lifts him, holding him around the legs. Haru wraps his arms around Makoto’s neck, feeling even dizzier at how high he is off the ground. If he wasn’t snug around Makoto, he’d be afraid of falling, but he knows he won’t. Makoto won’t ever let him go.

“Love you,” Haru says, kissing Makoto’s ear.

“All for you, Haruka.” Makoto shifts Haru higher on his back and leads them down the alley.

Both giggle like drunken schoolboys all the way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Classic...


	7. Saturday

Haru slumps in the employee bathroom. There’s barely enough space in here for one person.

Makoto closes and locks the door behind them. “So, are you going to tell me what’s wrong now?”

Haru rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “Nothing is wrong! I’ve already said this ten times.”

“And I still don’t believe you,” Makoto says, setting down his sports bag. “Just tell me what the hell is going on, Haru.”

Haru looks away from him, frowning. He really doesn’t want to talk about this. Even though it’s well into the afternoon, he still feels groggy from last night. The last thing he wants to do now is talk about his feelings.

“Makoto,” Haru says as patiently as he can. “I’m okay.”

Makoto crosses his arms over his chest. “Then why have you been so mean today?”

The words pierce through Haru’s chest, and the shards puncture his heart. “Mean? I haven’t been mean to you.”

“Only to everyone else?” Makoto asks. He leans against the door, looking hurt, and Haru feels as though he’s being stabbed in the chest. Nothing is more excruciating than Makoto’s pain.

“Look,” Makoto breathes. “I know we probably drank too much last night, but you knew there was a race today. You know I have to be here.”

“I’m not mad at you for being here,” Haru says. “What are you even talking about?”

“You’ve been completely quiet – more than usual!” Makoto says, raising his voice. “Anyone who’s talked to you or has tried to compliment your swimming, you’ve barely responded to or ignored all together.” He shakes his head. “What else did you expect, Haru? And I work here. You can’t-”

“ – don’t tell me I’m embarrassing you,” Haru interrupts. “And stop worrying about me, Makoto. You’re right. You’re here to watch the meet. Not me.”

Makoto’s shoulders droop. “You’re not even listening to me.”

“Neither are you,” Haru says.

Makoto just stares at him with his jaw set. He shrugs. “Fine. I’m sure the break has started by now. Maybe you should go.”

“You don’t want me here?”

“I don’t think _you_ want to be here.”

Haru leans against the sink, feeling as unhappy as Makoto looks. Maybe he doesn’t want to be here, and he certainly doesn’t want to make the situation worse. They ended up falling asleep almost as soon as Makoto put him down in their bedroom last night, causing Makoto to forget to set an alarm. All morning they’ve been like this, short with each other and tense. They’ve argued more than they’ve laughed so far.

Haru has hardly noticed himself today, but of course Makoto has. “Fine,” he says. “I’ll go.”

Makoto looks away from him. “Sure. I’ll text you when I’m on my way home.”

Makoto opens the door for him, and Haru walks out. He only gets a few steps from the door before he stops. Haru can’t make his legs move anymore. He closes his eyes, rubbing his chest. He hates arguing with Makoto. It makes him sick and sore. Makes him feel like he’s wasting away in a miserable life that he doesn’t have to live in.

Haru looks back at the door. Even more than fighting, Haru hates leaving Makoto behind. He swore to himself when he made up his mind to go to Tokyo for uni that he’d never walk away from Makoto ever again.

Haru goes back into the bathroom. Makoto is leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and his head down. He looks up when Haru closes the door. Haru swallows hard, not knowing why this is suddenly so difficult. He doesn’t know what to do as he walks back and stands against the sink.

Haru wishes Makoto would just pull the explanations and apologies out of him, but he knows it won’t be enough. Makoto deserves better – more.

Haru opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He shakes his head, letting out a heavy breath. He feels weak and bare and so unbelievably small, and he doesn’t know why.

Makoto glides his hands through his hair, letting them hook on his neck, and starts walking toward Haru. He doesn’t stop until he’s right in front of him. He looks into Haru’s eyes; Haru stares right back. Everything around him darkens and gets fuzzy around the edges.

Makoto wets his lips. Haru bites his bottom one. He grips the sink behind him, and he wonders if he’s the only one who can hear how hard his heart is thumping. Even when they argue, the energy between them is so intense. It coils itself around them, pushing them together.

It’s at this moment that Haru finally lets himself realize that he has been different today. That’s he’s been an asshole, and that Makoto doesn’t deserve it. Haru is supposed to be here supporting Makoto as he watches teams from the surrounding area compete at his job’s swim meet – not get caught up in his head. It’s not the time for that – especially not in this way.

“Makoto…” Haru whispers.

Makoto wraps his arms around Haru’s waist, pulling him close. He hugs him strongly, resting his cheek on the side of Haru’s head. It takes Haru a moment to adjust and warm himself out of the icy shock, but eventually he circles his arms around Makoto’s neck. He rises a bit on his toes so he can get a better grip and closes his eyes.

They both exhale, lightly.

Haru takes in Makoto’s presence as much as he possibly can. Takes in his scent and body heat. Makoto feels so good, feels like his best friend – his husband. “I’m sorry, Makoto.”

“It’s okay,” Makoto whispers in his ear, making Haru shiver and get goosebumps. “I’m sorry, too.”

Hearing Makoto apologize hurts Haru’s heart even further. _How can Makoto do this his whole life? How can he constantly, genuinely apologize for things that are nowhere near his fault?_

Haru rests his head on Makoto’s chest. It’s firm, warm, and Haru can feel Makoto’s heart pounding just as roughly as his own. It’s perfect. Relaxing. “You don’t need to be,” Haru says, feeling comfortable for the first time all day. “I’m the one with the problem.”

Makoto’s grip on him tightens. “Why won’t you talk to me? I don’t mind giving you space, but I can’t take you completely shutting me out – not as your husband.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Haru confesses, enforcing his hold as well. “It’s not you, I swear.”

“So what’s the matter?”

“I don’t know. I do still feel a bit out of it.” Haru stops talking and tries to find the right words. He wishes he were more like Makoto when it comes to this part of being a good husband. “Just talking about the meet today…being here. It’s making me think about how busy things are going to get in the next few weeks.”

“Training?” Makoto asks in his hair.

“Conditioned swimming everyday – all the time,” Haru says, already feeling the weight of it. “Being in the water because I _have_ to. Being away from you for weeks at a time when tournaments begin. I…I don’t know if this is what I want anymore.”

Haru didn’t mean to say the last part out loud, but he couldn’t help himself. He instantly worries that he’s said too much, gives something up, when Makoto pulls away. But Makoto doesn’t appear to be upset. He seems dazed, if anything, and his eyes are blurry.

At least, Haru _thinks_ they are until he himself blinks, understanding right away that the tears are coming from his own eyes. It’s astounding considering that Haru never cries.

Makoto seems amazed as well. He raises his pointer finger to Haru’s cheek, gently tracing the path of wetness. The touch sends a strong wave of warm pleasure throughout Haru, making him lose control of his body. He can’t help but to moan and move into Makoto’s hand, like he was lost and finally found his way back home.

Pink stains Makoto’s cheeks at Haru’s reaction. His eyes go wide, and he puts his forehead to Haru’s. “Why didn’t you just tell me this?” Makoto asks softly.

Haru shrinks a bit into himself. “I don’t know. I thought…I would sound stupid or crazy or unappreciative.”

Makoto gives him a look of disbelief. “To _me_? Why would you ever think that? I don’t care what you do as a career. I only want you to be happy.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” Haru says, feeling embarrassed. “I just thought it would be too hard to say. This is all I’ve ever done.”

Makoto sighs, cupping Haru’s face. “Haruka, I’m your husband, yes. But even more than that, I’m still your best friend. If you can’t talk to me, after all these years, then what am I good for?”

“It’s not like that,” Haru urges, gripping Makoto’s wrists. “I’ve had all this in my head for a long time, but I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want to bring it up like this. I really…I just don’t want to fight anymore.”

“Neither do I,” Makoto says. “That’s why I’m trying to be understanding, but it’s hard when you don’t trust me.”

Haru lightly stomps his foot in frustration. “You’re the only person I completely trust. I love you.” He takes Makoto’s hands off of his face and places them to his chest, just like Makoto did last night. Haru keeps his eyes on his husband. “I love you, Makoto.”

Makoto slowly blinks, wetting his lips again. He looks down at Haru’s mouth, but Haru kisses him first. They both sigh heavily as their lips connect, but Haru only allows himself to fall into the silk for a few seconds before pulling away. Makoto opens his eyes, his lips still puckered.

Haru is tingly as he searches Makoto for something, anything that will tell him that Makoto didn’t enjoy his kiss, but Haru finds nothing. Only sees himself – sees this moment. Haru moves in again to Makoto’s mouth, letting him close the gap. Makoto slips out his tongue, and Haru lets him in.

Makoto continues hugging Haru as they gently kiss. It’s in a protective way, like Haru’s precious to him. Like he wants to keep Haru from all the things that make his life painful sometimes. It makes Haru sigh again and again. He holds Makoto just as possessively.

The longer they kiss, the rougher they do become. In time, Haru starts clutching Makoto’s shoulders, yanking at the front of his shirt to bring him closer. Makoto grabs Haru’s hips, tugging at his belt loops to do the same thing. Makoto leans over Haru, so he arches his back against the sink, mending them together.

They moan at the feeling, their heat between them. Haru finds himself winding pretty far back, ends up dropping his hands right into the sink. Neither of them stops or is bothered by this. Makoto sways his legs to the inside of Haru’s, fumbling as he lets his hands rest in the sink, so that he’s towering over Haru, and their crotches smash together.

They groan into each other’s mouths, and Haru loses himself. Lets Makoto take total control of everything – which he does. He starts kissing Haru recklessly. Starts rubbing up against him, making Haru’s toes curl.

Haru loves to take the lead, but he also has no problem with Makoto being in charge either. Makoto _should_ take lead with this level of greatness, and it allows Haru to focus on how wonderfully hard Makoto has become.

Haru musters the strength to rise to a stand - at least gets his hands out of the sink. He flicks his tongue over the roof of Makoto’s mouth, wedging a hand between them and pressing it against Makoto’s lower stomach.

Right as Haru beings to skim his fingers lower, Makoto breaks out of the kiss. The pink on his cheeks has spread all over his face, and his mouth is puffy from all the kissing. Makoto slightly frowns as he squeezes Haru’s hand, shaking his head. Haru tries to speak, but his mouth has suddenly gone bone dry. He feels as though his heart may waste away.

“Haru,” is all Makoto says. He looks at him like he wants Haru to tell him something – give him something.

“I want to make everything up to you,” Haru whispers before kissing his neck. “I will when we get home. I’ll bake you something really special, and I won’t be an asshole, I promise.” He kisses and nibbles on Makoto’s neck, making him moan. Makoto grips his hips, and Haru takes these as good signs.

“I’m more concerned about you,” Makoto mumbles, lifting his chin so Haru can lick the hollow of his throat.

“No, you deserve an apology first,” Haru says. He drags his tongue up to Makoto’s jaw line.

“Haruka!” Makoto gasps.

Haru pulls back, looking at him as innocently as he can while cupping the solid lump underneath Makoto’s shorts. “Do you want me to stop?”

Makoto’s breath hitches, and he leans more into Haru’s touch. “You know I don’t.”

“So tell me what you do want,” Haru whispers, licking Makoto’s mouth.

Makoto faintly whimpers and pokes his tongue out, smearing the tip of Haru’s. “Touch me.”

Haru makes a noise even though he doesn’t mean to, and sinks to his knees without really noticing. He wastes no time reaching up and pulling down Makoto’s shorts.

Haru makes another noise. Makoto’s erection is pressing beautifully against his boxers. Haru can make out every line and curve of him. He puts three fingers to the bulge, tracing the outline of his cock. Makoto squeaks, leaning against the sink. It doesn’t take long for a wet, sticky spot to bleed through the material, and Haru happily licks at it.

“Haru,” Makoto breathes.

Haru doesn’t need to look at Makoto. He can hear the need in his voice; smell it through his skin. He takes out Makoto’s cock, making him buck his hips. “You’re so big, Makoto,” Haru says with a sigh.

“ _Haru_ ,” Makoto says in a completely different voice. It’s gentler, huskier. He attempts to keep himself stable against the sink while Haru strokes his heavy cock. Haru’s ears burn as he firmly shifts his grip back and forth. He leans forward and softly licks Makoto’s sac, gently sucking a tender ball between his lips.

Makoto moans loudly, hitting his knuckles against the sink. It makes Haru’s asshole twinge. He sucks more of Makoto’s sac into his mouth, and starts pumping faster, getting precum all over his fingers.

Makoto suddenly stops his hand, moving it away. Haru takes Makoto out of his mouth and looks at him. He’s completely out of breath, seems overwhelmed, dazed, and so flushed. He looks like he wants to say something, but this time Haru has to words.

“Let me take you the way you deserve,” Haru whispers. Makoto whimpers and nods, and that’s a good enough answer for Haru.

He leans in, closing his lips around the tip of Makoto’s cock. He licks away the precum, kissing the skin just under the head. A deep, long moan comes from Makoto as Haru kisses his cockhead, rubbing his moist lips on him.  

"H-have you forgiven me yet?" Haru asks, his voice trembling.

Makoto doesn’t look at him, only shakes his head. “No, and you better not stop.”

“I won’t. I promise.” Haru takes a deep breath. He re-grips Makoto’s cock, letting all the air out of his lungs as he eases it into his mouth. There’s no way that Haru can fit it all, but he goes as far as he can while still leaving room to swallow.

Makoto braces his hand on Haru’s shoulder. “O-oh…H- _Haru_ ,” he whimpers. His other hand goes to Haru’s hair. "Right there, Haru. Right there.”

Haru takes the command in stride and stars sucking Makoto’s cock, licking all over the muscle. Makoto watches with a look of absolute pleasure. He rubs Haru’s scalp. “Hold your tongue out for me,” he pants.

Haru obeys, extending his tongue flat across the underside of him. Makoto rubs his cock back and forth on his tongue. Haru moans, the head feeling like a warm rubber ball in his mouth. Makoto tangles his fingers in his hair, tugging on the strands and gasping.

Haru’s heart beats out of his chest, and his body feels damp with sweat. He returns to pumping Makoto in his mouth and keeps his eyes closed for total concentration.

“Your mouth is so warm. So wet.” Makoto squeezes Haru’s shoulder, lightly thrusting his cock deeper into his mouth. Haru chokes a little, but it’s nothing he can’t handle now that he’s sober. It feels good, Makoto sliding down his throat, and it actually encourages Haru to suck deeper and faster, getting more and more of Makoto into his mouth and down his throat.

Haru sucks and kisses and licks and flicks, moaning as he practically makes love to Makoto’s cock with his mouth. Makoto’s sharp, broken noises, and the way he’s holding on to Haru so tightly, make Haru feel like he might cum, right now.

Haru pulls away, resting his forehead on Makoto’s cock. It twitches and drips right before his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Makoto,” Haru pants. “Please, let me taste you.”

Makoto tugs on Haru’s hair. “Want me to cum in your mouth? Will that make you feel better? Eating my cum?”

“ _Yes_!” Haru groans, abruptly giving his own cock a rough squeeze. He can’t even look at Makoto right now. “I want to eat it up. You taste so good.” He quickly goes back to sucking Makoto, moaning and humming.

Makoto weakly cries out. He digs both hands in Haru’s hair and roughly guides his mouth. Haru relaxes his jaw. Simply lets Makoto fuck his mouth. It feels so good, and Haru begins to whine. Makoto growls in response, thrusting his hips more, mashing his nails into Haru’s scalp.

Haru whimpers at the slight sting and tries his best to breathe through his nose. He peers up at Makoto. His eyes are closed, and he’s chewing on his lips. He looks like he’s in another world. Sex after a fight is always passionate, making them both so needy and raw.

“Haru, I’m gonna cum.” Makoto lifts open his eyes, just enough for Haru to see the desperation that’s there. His _absolute need_ to let go. Haru will stay on his knees forever if he has to. Nothing will make him stop until Makoto cums.

Haru tightens his mouth around Makoto’s cock, sucking it hard, letting the head hit the back of his throat. He gags again, but hums through it, and it all he needs to do in order to send Makoto over the edge of the diving board.

Makoto gives a choked cry, and a large load of cum erupts in Haru’s mouth. His cheeks pump up as every bit of space is filled. Makoto’s knees give out, but Haru quickly holds him in place against the sink as he drinks him down. Gulping thick swallow after thick swallow.

“ _Haruka_ ,” Makoto whines, jerking as Haru continues to suck on him well after he’s drained.

Haru moans longingly, finally pulling away. Makoto collapses to the floor in front of him. Haru tries to catch his breath, but it’s difficult. Not only is his mouth tender and tingly, but also Makoto’s state makes it hard to breathe. Makoto seems completely blown apart. He’s sweaty as well – his employee t-shirt sticking to him – and his eyes are two gaping black holes. He’s panting like he’s in heat.

They merely stare at each other, letting the tension build even thicker. Makoto suddenly shivers and moans. He hugs himself, sliding a finger into his mouth and sucking on it, like it’s helping him to relax.

“Fuck me, Haruka.”

The words are so quiet and soft, yet somehow they punch through Haru’s stomach, dropping straight to the head of his cock. Haru shudders while he absentmindedly squeezes his erection again. “You want me to?”

“Yes.”

Haru leans forward, touching his forehead to Makoto’s. “Right here?”

“Please?” Makoto whispers, licking the tip of Haru’s nose. “I can’t wait. I need to be fucked now. Need your cock really bad.”

Haru puts a hand on Makoto’s chest. The vibrations of his heartbeat flow out of him and into Haru’s hand – throughout his body. “How do you want it?”

“ _Hard_ ,” Makoto wheezes. “I want to feel every part of you.” He shakes his head hopelessly, like he’s lost somewhere. “Please, Haru, just take me as hard as you can. I wanna feel like my bones are breaking.”

Haru’s breathing catches in his throat. He loves their sex life and everything they do, but he can’t lie to himself and say that Makoto wasn’t meant to bottom. That having Makoto wild and begging and pleading to be fucked doesn’t feel like home to Haru.

Makoto is so sweet, coy, and angelic. No one else but Haru knows that the words “harder”, “faster”, and “deeper” are invisibly tattooed on Makoto’s body. They’ve always been there, maybe even before Makoto gave Haru his virginity. Either way, they’re hidden, secret pleas that only Haru gets to see and take command from.

“You want me to let go?” Haru asks, and his voice is softer than it should be.

Makoto whimpers, stumbling to a stand. He holds out his hand to Haru. “Yes.”

Haru can barely move his legs as he takes Makoto’s hand and gets up. Even after hearing and seeing Makoto like this a thousand times, it still feels new – almost too good to be true. But Haru knows it isn’t. They’re together in this tiny room, and they’re the only people that exist.

Haru puts a hand to Makoto’s cheek. They only look at each other for a second before pouncing, tearing at each other’s shirts and yanking them off. They start kissing, growling and grunting, squeezing and clawing at each other’s torsos. Something feral and primitive takes over their bodies, and they become nourishment for one another, and they attack each other as if it’s the only way to keep from hurting or starving.

Makoto bites Haru’s bottom lip, twisting one of his nipples. “ _Ow_!” Haru hisses against his mouth. He pushes himself away. “Bend over.” Haru takes his shirt and stuffs it into the crease under the door, in the hopes of cutting down on at least _some_ of the noise.

Makoto’s eyes widen, and he immediately obeys. He turns around and bends over the sink, letting his arms rest on the porcelain. He angles his knees so he’s not so tall, and lays his head on his arms. Makoto spreads his legs as far as they will go while still trapped in his clothes.

“Fuck me,” Makoto pants. “Give me what I want. Stuff me, Haruka.”

Haru stays frozen for a moment to collect himself. He marvels at the sight before him – Makoto’s rippling back glistening with sweat. Haru wants to drag his tongue over every inch, and his cock is throbbing so hard that he’s afraid he’ll cum if he moves too fast. It’s deliciously overwhelming.

“You’re so hungry for me, Makoto.” Haru runs his tongue down the length of Makoto’s sultry spine, and sweat has never tasted so good before.

Makoto whimpers, jerking. “I am. I am. I am. Don’t use a lot of lube. Don’t even put your fingers or your mouth on me. Just do it.”

Haru reaches down into Makoto’s sports bag, rustling around until he feels the small bottle. “Are you sure?” Haru asks, although he’s already unzipping his jeans, letting them and his boxers fall to his ankles. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Makoto actually laughs. He cranes his neck to look at Haru, and he seems just as drunk as he did last night. “You’ve been fucking me for years. I don’t think that’ll be a problem. Besides, a little pain is good.” He pushes back against Haru.

Haru unexpectedly cries out; any reservations he has disappear. He quickly flips open the bottle, slicking a thin layer of lube on his cock. Haru makes sure he’s completely polished before dropping the bottle. The sound makes Makoto quiver even more. His body is so big, yet amazingly delicate right now.

This moment is the daydream Haru tortures himself with whenever he’s away for swimming. When he needs to give himself an orgasm so powerful that it consumes him, making him feel like he’s back at home.

Everything involving Makoto takes him over the edge, but this particular position is what Haru envisions the most when he jerks off in his hotel room, or in the shower, or even behind a tree if he thinks about it too hard during his nightly runs.

“Makoto,” Haru says softly. “You’re so beautiful.”

Makoto squeaks. “Need you…”

Haru doesn’t wait another second. He mounts Makoto, giving him one long stroke. Makoto cries out as Haru deeply gasps. He feels another layer of sweat coat his body as Makoto’s hot tightness smothers him whole. Haru releases a choked moan.

“O-okay?” Haru asks, feeling his cock dissolve into Makoto’s nerves.

“Y-yes. I’m okay. Go.”

Haru nods, making himself lightheaded, and begins to move.

He thrusts into Makoto while Makoto pushes back against him. Over and over, Haru watches his cock disappear into the sweltering space. He moans every time he slides back, seeing himself tugging out the tender flesh of Makoto’s ass. Makoto’s just opens up for him, and it feels so good.

Haru holds on to Makoto’s hips, fucking him as fast and as hard as he possibly can. Their rough sounds echo in the small room, and the noise of their skin slapping together makes the experience even more intense.

Makoto whimpers and moans as he clutches the sink, turning his knuckles white. Haru looks in the mirror that’s above the sink. Makoto’s mouth is open wide, drool simply oozing from it. His muscles flex beautifully from Haru’s movements, yet his face is completely relaxed. Every time Haru pumps into him, Makoto hits the sink, whining. Haru starts moving even faster.

"Yes, faster, _please_!" Makoto begs. He opens his eyes, meeting Haru’s gaze in the mirror. Makoto flushes with even more color when he realizes that Haru’s been watching them like this.

"We look good?" Haru ask as he gives another powerful thrust, viewing how his sweaty, lean body throws itself into Makoto’s bigger, firmer frame.

Makoto drops his head with a loud gasp. “Y-yes,” is all he can choke out. He lifts up a shaky hand and places it against the mirror, almost as if he wants to grip it, and Haru knows that Makoto is doing this for him – putting on a little show.

Makoto is way too much for him. Too fucking good.

“Arch your back,” Haru demands. Makoto bends, spreading himself, and the arc opens him up even more. Haru moans as his cock slides in deeper, grazing more of the nerves in Makoto’s ass. The tight heat swallows him whole, and Haru feels like he’s finally reached the ocean.

“Haru!” Makoto cries, slamming his fist on the mirror. “Don’t stop!”

“Won’t,” Haru breathes. He closes his eyes, letting out a throttled moan. He fucks himself into Makoto, thrusting up and rolling his hips to hit his prostate. Makoto jams his palm into his mouth, muffling the sound of his continuous cries.

Haru loves moments like this. When he feels completely sure of himself. He knows exactly what to do, and how to move to make Makoto feel good.

Haru’s mind and body break apart. He feels himself fucking Makoto, but his mind is somewhere else. He can’t stop watching Makoto in the mirror. He hardly looks like himself – or at least like the Makoto that he shares with the world.

What’s here right now, what Haru is inside of, is a different person – another layer to Makoto’s being. _This_ Makoto is only alive for pleasure. He’s demanding and needy. He’s hot and rowdy and lost and just for Haru. Haru wants to please this side of Makoto. Wants this part of Makoto to be satisfied, so he’ll feel whole again.

Haru stops pushing, readjusting his grip on Makoto’s hips, and just starts slamming Makoto back against his groin. Haru uses Makoto’s weight to yank him down on his cock, and he drills him with the speed of a jackhammer. Again and again, Makoto’s ass bounces on Haru’s cock, and his cheeks clap against Haru’s thighs.

Makoto cries out with every stroke, and his ass pulsates around Haru. Makoto detaches his palm from his teeth, unleashing a low howl. “Haru _ka_ ,” Makoto drones, “you’re gonna make me cum again.”

“G-good,” Haru breathes, grinding his hips when he slams Makoto back on him. The thrust is so severe that it stings, so Haru does it again. “I wanna make you cum. I always wanna make you cum.”

“You’re fucking it out of me,” Makoto whines. “Your cock feels so good. You’re so deep in me.”

“Makoto, _please_ ,” Haru groans, feeling breaths away from cumming himself. He has to do something. He refuses to let go before Makoto like this. It’s _his_ turn to put on a show.

“A-are you a good boy, Makoto?” Haru asks.

Makoto lets out a choked cry, scratching at the mirror. “ _Yes_. I’m a good boy.”

Haru bites down hard on his lip, and it’s all he can do to keep from exploding. “Sh-show me that you’re a good boy, Makoto. Let me see how good you really are.”

Makoto whips up his head, huffing out a broken cry. His ass contracts around Haru, and his back gives out. Makoto cums hard, his hand sliding down the mirror as he bucks and whines Haru’s name.

Haru wants nothing more than to appreciate this sight for hours, but there’s nothing he can do to hold back the orgasm that abruptly surges through him. “Makoto!” Haru moans loudly, giving a rough thrust as he cums deeply into Makoto, pumping erratically while the suffocating heat and pressure consumes him.

Haru holds Makoto’s waist as he collapses onto him; they both fall over the sink. Makoto hugs Haru’s arms. Everything is hot and sticky and tender, and it’s perfect. They do nothing but keep hold of each other and wheeze as they try to find themselves again. “Y-you okay?” Haru asks. Makoto doesn’t say anything, only nods.

Haru moves first, peeling himself off his husband’s skin. He trips backwards to the wall, and Makoto turns around. Even though he’s a mess, he looks like his usual self again.

“You feel so good, Makoto,” Haru says, sighing a little. “I’ve never felt something so good in my life.”

Makoto lazily chuckles. “You always say that, Haru.” He runs a hand through his damp hair, moaning. “Okay, you’re _somewhat_ forgiven, but I still want you to bake me a chocolate cake.” Makoto smiles handsomely at Haru, and Haru’s heart skips a beat.

“I’ll bake you two chocolate cakes,” Haru says, smiling back. Makoto starts laughing, and Haru joins them. They continue to idly giggle while they slowly, weakly clean themselves and pull their clothes back on.

Haru is the first the finish. He watches Makoto throw his soiled towel back into his bag, and Haru feels a twinge of guilt. “Are you going to be all right?”

“I can sit through this,” Makoto assures, tugging up his shorts. “How are you?”

“I’m fine.”

“No, I mean with what you said about swimming,” Makoto says. “We can talk about it at home, if you want.” Haru just blinks at him. He can’t believe that Makoto is already talking about this. Then again, maybe he can. Even in the afterglow of great sex, Makoto still wants to take care of him.

“I think I’d like that,” Haru says, honestly.

Something like relief settles over Makoto. “I’m glad.” He looks around the floor, apparently noticing for the first time that his cum is in puddles and streaks all over the tile. “I made such a mess...”

“It’ll dry.”

“That’s _embarrassing_ , Haru!”

“You think everything is embarrassing before and _after_ it happens,” Haru says, waving a hand. “And anyway, you said this room is hardly used.” He goes to the sink and splashes cold water on his face. It feels so good to his skin that’s still burning.

Makoto joins him at the sink, splashing his face, too. “Um, Haru, how long did you watch us in the mirror?”

“For most of it,” Haru admits. “We really need to update our sex videos.”

“Hmm, I agree.”

Haru shuts off the water, slowly turning his head to Makoto. “Really? No resistance to me pulling out the camcorder later?”

Makoto shrugs. “No, that’s fine.”

Haru raises an eyebrow. It always takes a bit of convincing, and usually some finger play, to get Makoto to agree on letting him film them having sex.

Makoto rolls his eyes, obviously reading Haru’s mind. “I know what you’re thinking, but I’m serious. Next month you’ll be gone, and I miss you just as much as you miss me when you’re away. I need new stuff to watch when I’m by myself.”

Haru’s eyes widen, and his breath gets caught in his throat. He grabs Makoto, hauling him into a tight squeeze. Makoto laughs. “You’re so excited, Haru.”

“No,” Haru rushes, nuzzling his chest. “I just. I’m so thankful you’re here with me.”

“Where else would I be?” Makoto asks, holding him back. Haru just shakes his head. He has no idea where else Makoto would be, and he never wants to find out.

“I’m really sorry, Makoto,” Haru says, burying his face in Makoto’s shirt.

Makoto must feel his sudden rush of emotion because he holds Haru tighter, kissing the top of his head. “Me, too. But we’ll talk, okay? We’ll figure this out.” Haru only nods. “Hey, Haru?”

“Hm?”

“Can we make some recordings of just you?” Makoto whispers. “Doing… _things_ to yourself? In different… _outfits_?”

Haru laughs, pulling away. He blinks away the teary sting in his eyes, but Makoto rubs underneath his eyelashes anyway. He’s smiling so beautifully. Smiling at him like a best friend, a husband, a soulmate.

“Anything you want,” Haru whispers back.

Makoto kisses his forehead and takes his hand. “Something for us to think about. Do you want to stay?”

“Yes, I want to be here,” Haru says, feeling confident in his answer.

“Then we should probably head back. Before we become too obvious.”

“According to Nagisa, we’re always obvious, Makoto,” Haru says, but he obeys anyway, taking Makoto’s bag and pulling it over his shoulder.

Makoto looks himself over in the mirror again, and Haru wants to laugh. Makoto is obviously trying to find any trace that will scream to the world that he just got sucked and fucked by his husband during halftime.

“Haru?” Makoto suddenly asks.

“Makoto?”

Makoto sighs, putting a hand to his face. He furrows his brows and cringes a little. “Do you think we have sex too much?”

Haru waits for him to laugh or add on to the joke, but he doesn’t. Haru blinks at Makoto, who’s _clearly_ forgotten language and what those words, in that order, imply.

“Uh, no…” is all Haru can say in his confusion. “Why?”

Makoto bites the side of his lip, looking bashful. “I don’t know. My coworkers always talk about the amount of sexual activity they get in a week. Most I’ve ever heard is three.”

“ _Seriously_?”

“Yes, seriously.”

Haru rubs his temple. He still doesn’t understand. “What do you say?”

“I don’t say anything,” Makoto answers. “I just…kind of feel awful for them.”

Haru grins. He can only imagine Makoto’s cute, blushing face when he’s asked about his sex life. He probably gets embarrassed, but at the same time feels proud, mumbling some sort of answer about not wanting to participate in the conversation.

“Their shame, not ours?”

“I guess,” Makoto says, his ears turning red. “I’m lucky.”

“Not lucky,” Haru says, tugging on his hand. “Just perfect.”

Makoto brings Haru’s hand up to his lips, kissing the silver band on his finger. “I love you, Haruka. You’re my best friend. I’ll be behind you, whatever you choose or don’t choose to do. Always right by your side.”

Haru shudders, feeling a comforting heat hug itself around him. His heart finally mends, a pressure he didn’t even know was there lifts from his shoulders, and the pain in his chest disappears. The relief and happiness and love and devotion floods through Haru so fast that he’s briefly stunned. “M-Makoto…”

“It’s okay,” Makoto eases, giving Haru’s hand one more kiss before letting it go. “I just wanted to tell you that.” He smiles at Haru and then goes to the door, peeking out. “Follow me in one minute.”

“Makoto?” Haru suddenly says. His cheeks feel like they’re melting off, and he doesn’t know why he’s nervous. “I…” Haru closes his eyes and takes a breath.

“Haru?”

“You’re all I’ve ever needed,” Haru says, opening his eyes. He stands a little straighter and licks his lips. “For as long as I can remember, I’ve only ever really needed you. If I’m with Makoto, I’m happy. If I have Makoto…that’s enough.”

Makoto gasps, and his eyes go wide. He rushes up to Haru and kisses him hard. “Haruka,” Makoto sighs against his lips.

“I love you,” Haru says, kissing him back.

Makoto lets Haru nip at his lips for a few seconds before pulling away. “Okay, honestly, I have to go,” Makoto says, breaking from Haru only to kiss him again. Haru keeps grabbing at Makoto’s hands and accepts every one of his kisses.

“Yes, go,” Haru mumbles against Makoto’s mouth. He gives Makoto one more kiss then decides to do the right thing. Haru eases Makoto away from him, nudging his head toward the door.

Makoto runs his hands over his face and down his shirt. “Yes, leaving now.” He quickly turns around, grabs his bag, and rushes out of the bathroom. Haru laughs and leans against the wall. He really, _really_ can’t wait to go home and relax with his husband.

Haru looks down at the floor and tries to count how may spots and streaks of cum there are while he kills time; he suddenly remembers what Makoto told him about his coworkers’ sex lives.

“ _Three_ ,” Haru says aloud. He shakes his head and goes over the week he had with Makoto – everything they’ve done since last Sunday.

Nothing too out of the ordinary. A typical week in his eyes.

Haru’s phone buzzes. He doesn’t have to check the name to know it’s from Makoto. It’s a text, telling him he’s safe to come out and that the relay has started. Haru can easily imagine how red Makoto must be right now, trying to act as if he only took a really long bathroom break.

Haru gives himself a moment to think about what he’ll say to Makoto when they get home. How he’ll finally tell the love of his life that he doesn’t want to be a pro swimmer anymore. It scares Haru, but only for a moment. It’s just Makoto, and he’ll stay by his side, just as Makoto always has and always will.

Even after being married to him for a few years now, Haru still feels like he’s getting used to all the benefits of having a husband like Makoto, who’s always there to pull him out of the water when it gets too deep.

Haru looks in the mirror, seeing a tender, honest, and vulnerable smile – one he rarely reveals to the world – splashed across his face.

“Lucky,” he says before leaving the bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bottom!Makoto is how I ALWAYS want to end my week!  
> WELL, THAT'S IT! I hope everyone enjoyed this! It ended up so much longer than I originally planned (of course) but I love how it turned out! Married!MakoHaru...*sighs* just take me now...  
> JUSTINE! I hope this turned out even a little as you hoped...  
> I'm @MakoMacarena on Twitter!


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